


Moreta, Dragonlady of Pern: The Beginning of Plague As Plot

by silveradept



Series: The Suck Fairy's Greatest Hits: The Dragonriders of Pern [10]
Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey
Genre: Ableism, Abuse, Animal Death, Classism, Commentary, Consent Issues, Depression, Despair, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Loss, Male Gaze, Meta, Misogyny, Nonfiction, Pathophobia, Patriarchy, Suicide, Swearing, Toxic Masculinity, Verbal Abuse, meaningless death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 43,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23501599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveradept/pseuds/silveradept
Summary: A commentary read with excerpts of Moreta, Dragonlady of Pern, the first of the Sixth Pass works, part of the Dragonriders of Pern novels.
Relationships: Alessan/Moreta (Dragonriders Of Pern), Moreta & Orlith (Dragonriders of Pern)
Series: The Suck Fairy's Greatest Hits: The Dragonriders of Pern [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1663699
Comments: 13
Kudos: 7





	1. A Whole New Ballgame

**Author's Note:**

> This is the Director's Cut of meta originally posted at [Slacktiverse](https://slacktiverse.wordpress.com).
> 
> Content notes for each chapter are in their respective posts, and all content notes in the work are in the tags.
> 
> Director's commentary will be rendered _[in a manner like this.]_

Thanks for the votes of confidence. There's been five years since the last book and this one coming out, so there has been time for reflection, and so this foray into Pern is likely more deliberate. The Author's Note at the beginning of my Ballantine ebook says that the original thought that brought Pern into existence was to write one short story about an equal relationship between people and aliens, and to put dragons in a good light. Then came six books. The Author's Note also says up front that this book is explicitly the past, not the future, so no resolutions to the scenario left hanging at the end of The White Dragon. 

The Note itself concludes with an interesting thing:

> For readers who have extrapolated themselves and their wishes onto Pern, I have probably NOT written the adventure you hoped might be presented within these covers. With all the best intentions in the world, I doubt I could write such a broadly-pleasing, all-encompassing, wish-fulfilling novel. In a roundabout way, that is a compliment to you, the reader, not a fault in me, for you have put more of yourself on Pern than I could ever imagine for your sake. I appreciate your enthusiasm and I also appreciate the list of dragon names which have been sent to me.

Well, clearly there's a fandom that's developed in this interval (or rather, in this interval, the fandom has been the only thing sustaining Pern). The Note seems to suggest that the decision to write Moreta is much like Arthur Conan Doyle's decision to resurrect Holmes after throwing him off the Falls - the popular demand is just too much. But there's the immediate disclaimer that this story is not going to be the story that all the fans have imagined, which is probably supposed to be an ass-covering move, but which also suggests to me that the fandom that has developed in this time is already starting to diverge with the canon presented in the books. Considering how much we have already looked at in relation to how absolutely screwed up Pern is, this divergence is likely inevitable, as fixing the problems is almost a prerequisite to making the world work for those who want to inhabit it. While one could conceivably have an entire society composed of nobility, as some reenactment groups make their conceit, the more likely fixing, in addition to needing better gender equality, would be to make all three classes more equal, and possibly even bring in the non-nobles into the game as somewhat equals. They may have also started noticing some of the less consensual options with regard to mating flights and be working to rectify those as well. If that's the case, then the disclaimer is meant to signal that no such things will be forthcoming in the original canon. That's somewhat disappointing if this turns out to be true.

After the note, we have a prologue that still feels like it has been added to the original tale. It still appears mostly the same as before, but now that we actually know more about the Ancients that arrived on the planet through canon discovery of the South's landing site and preserved dwellings, the prologue is less spoilery for us. There is also a section that describes for us how the various divisions of labor came to be.

> The rest of the population agreed to tithe support to the Weyrs since the dragonmen did not have arable land in their volcanic homes, could not afford to take time away from nurturing their dragons to learn other trades during peacetime, and could not take time away from protecting the planet during Passes.

Eh, okay. During the intervals, though, it would make sense for dragonriders to learn crafts and such, as they're more like reservists than active duty.

_[Knowing what I do now about dragonriders and what they do all day when they're not fighting Thread, at least based on the later stories, the "couldn't learn other trades during peacetime" is entirely bullshit. There's more than enough hands in the Weyrs where other hobbies and professions could absolutely be taken up and their proceeds sold, in much the same way that the Harper Hall apprentices and journeypersons make instruments to be sold to others. The part about no arable land is still reasonably true, although there's been a lot of pointing out over time that when you have dragons that can go anywhere, you don't have to have your farmland attached to your Weyr, and could instead have it somewhere very far away, indeed. Weyrs could be self-sufficient, whether by selling their services, their goods, or raising crops. About the only time they wouldn't be able to do those things is when they're doing the thing they're being tithed to for, fighting Thread. But that would mean doing work, rather than being part of an elite that doesn't actually have to do work when they're not fighting Thread.]_

> Settlements, called holds, developed wherever natural caves were found - some, of course, more extensive or strategically placed than others. It took a strong man to execute control over terrified people during Thread attacks; it took wise administration to conserve victuals when nothing could be safely grown, and it took extraordinary measures to control population and keep it productive and healthy until such time as the menace passed

_[And here's a cocowhat for your troubles.]_

*spit-take* Population control? Since they only way we know of right now to abort is to go dragonback on a hyperspace hop, what _other_ methods are being used for this "population control", especially in situations where food supposedly cannot be grown and has to be conserved. Sending someone to the dragonriders? Locking them outside during a Fall?

...And now I have to wonder if this was in all the other prologue spoilers, too.

_[The prologue seems to change over time, as there are more books and more stories written, where both prologue and stories themselves change to try and fit each other.]_

And the "nothing safely grown" bit doesn't make sense, either, because the giant flaming dragons are supposed to make it possible to grow things, even when threatened by Thread. As a justification for the existence of Holders, this is pretty slim.

> Men with special skills in metalworking, weaving, animal husbandry, farming, fishing, and mining formed crafthalls in each large Hold and looked to one Master-crafthall where the precepts of their craft were taught and craft skills were preserved and guarded from one generation to another. One Lord Holder could not deny the products of the crafthall situated in his Hold to others, since the Crafts were deemed independent of a Hold affiliation. Each Craftmaster of a hall owed allegiance to the Master of his particular craft--an elected office based on proficiency in the craft and on administrative ability. The Mastercraftsman was responsible for the output of his halls and the distribution, fair and unprejudiced, of all craft products on a planetary rather than parochial basis.

Except, of course, for that whole money part, which introduces inequality by its very nature. Also, it seems highly inefficient for there to be only one hall where the secrets are preserved and passed on. It would be like having one single graduate school for each major on the planet.

I'm also pretty sure that Holders have, at many times, tried to restrict, divert, or otherwise affect the supply of craft goods leaving their zones of control. Yanus seems to have done so somewhat successfully in the previous books, while Meron bought extra supplies by trading in fire-lizards, and the Crafts didn't seem to care much.

The best is saved for last, though, in talking about how Weyr culture developed as "the greatest social revolution":

> Of the female dragons, only the golden were fertile; the greens were rendered sterile by the chewing of firestone, which was as well since the sexual proclivities of the small greens would have resulted in overpopulation.  
>  [...more on the various colors and the bronze dragons taking primacy in queen mating games due to stamina...]  
>  Consequently the rider of the bronze dragon who flew the senior queen of a Weyr became its Leader and had charge of the fighting Wings during a Pass. The rider of the senior queen dragon, however, held the most responsibility for the Weyr during and after a Pass when it was the Weyrwoman's job to nurture and preserve the dragons, to sustain and improve the Weyr and all its folk. A strong Weyrwoman was as essential to the survival of the Weyr as dragons were to the survival of Pern.  
>  To her fell the task of supplying the Weyr, fostering its children, and Searching for likely candidates from hall and hold to pair with the newly hatched dragons. As life in the Weyrs was not only prestigious but easier for men and women alike, hold and hall were proud to have their children taken on Search and boasted of the illustrious members of the bloodline who had become dragon riders.

Except, of course, when they don't, or when they would really rather have that kid around for a marriage, or to inherit, or to help on the household... or any one of a hundred other possible reasons why.

Also, it might be easier for the men, who just have to train themselves and their dragons to fight, and that also get plenty of opportunity for sexual contact of a dubiously consensual nature thanks to mating flights, but check out the laundry list of responsibilities on the Weyrwoman - keep everyone supplied and in good spirits, raise the children, and go find new candidates. If anything goes wrong outside of a battle, it's her fault. And she doesn't get to fight, because it would make her sterile (unlike the slutty slut green slutty dragons, who deserve sterilization for their slutty slut behaviors), so conveniently, the only things that a Weyrwoman can do are the things that would make her the idealized housewife in The Past That Never Was. Including the regular sexual availability to potentially many men over her lifetime, all who get to claim ownership of her when she's their partner.

Maybe it would have been better to skip this as spoiler data like before. Truthfully, though, it's packed more worldbuilding into a few short pages than the books so far. Surely there could have been a way to incorporate all of this into the narratives, so that the characters could remind us of it at crucial points, rather than having it come out as declarative statements from an omniscient narrator. (Although, doing it Rod Serling or Outer Limits style might impart enough subtext to point out that this apparent utopic social setup was not, in fact, all that it seemed.)

In any case, the last element of the prologue is our single item that places this story into the history of Pern and gives us a chronological point of reference - near the end of the Sixth Pass, either about or exactly 1400 years after the landing of the Ancients. Which says that a full cycle of attack and retreat is a little over two hundred years, if the Ancients landed in the first year of a Pass and there were no anomalies like the Long Interval that Lessa jumped across to bring forth the time-skipped Weyrs, where more than four hundred years went by without a Pass. (So maybe the long interval is just a double-length break?)

Keep that temporal signature in mind, as it will be the last time you see it or any other epoch/era/age marker in this book. Even in the past, the Present Pass system of calendar records is in use, which makes me wonder how anyone in the future can figure out what era their past Records are from.

Next week, we'll actually get to the action.


	2. Reboot, Again?

**Moreta, Dragonlady of Pern, Chapter I: Content Notes: _[The Male Gaze, Impossible Standards for Sexiness]_**

{3.10.43-1541 - is that 1541 years from the event that started the Pern calendar? Or a time stamp in 24-hour time? Does Pern even have a 24 hour cycle? And does anyone actually in this narrative know about this calendar notation, or is it strictly for the outside reader to know where we are in time?)

Moreta begins with a conversation with her headwoman, Nesso, about where her Weyrleader, Sh'gall should be in relation to where she is headed - a Gather at Ruatha, as well as an instruction to leave alone the sick dragonrider, K'lon. We are treated to a couple of data bits about Nesso that sets up the relationship as an antagonistic one:

> Their [Nesso and Sh'gall's] antagonism was mutual, and Moreta often found herself in the position of placating or explaining the one to the other. She could not change Sh'gall and was loathe to displace Nesso for, despite her faults, the woman was an exceedingly efficient and hard-working Headwoman.  
>  [...additionally...]  
>  Nesso had an officious habit of "taking" Moreta's place whenever the Weyrwoman was absent unless specifically ordered not to.

This is not true, strictly speaking, as I'm sure that things could be arranged such that Sh'gall is nowhere to be found at the next mating flight, and it is clearly possible to remove a member of the staff if you want, but with the way this narrative likes to punish women that take action on their own, especially those that try to arrange things for their own benefit, it's probably safer for her to wait and deal with the aggravation.

Regarding that second bit, why shouldn't the Headwoman take change when the Weyrleaders are out? About the only thing they wouldn't be in charge of would be drills or fighting engagements, and there's an already-established military rank system to handle scrambles, launches, and logistics for that. In the running of the Weyr, the Headwoman should be Goddess. (And only the Weyrleaders able to overrule them as the Greater Gods.) Nesso should be invested with Moreta's authority, and if she can't run the place, do what Moreta wants, or abuses the power, then she gets replaced with someone that can.

As it turns out, Moreta has recently become Weyrwoman when the previous queen (Leri's Holth) did not have a mating flight the last winter, so that may explain some of the animosity and friction - she hasn't necessarily had enough time to change the senior staff. We're seven Turns out from the end of a Pass, which gives Moreta a chance to indulge in vanity on what she's going to do when she doesn't have to fight off Thread. Which, in turn, gives the narrative an excuse to describe her body and self-image.

> She slipped into the dress now, smoothing it over her rather too broad shoulders, over breasts firm rather than large, a waist that was trim, and buttocks flat from long hours of riding astride. The gown hid muscled thighs that she sometimes resented, but they, too, were the legacy of twenty Turns riding a dragon and little enough inconvenience for being a queen's rider.

So, in that description, we highlight all of the sexual parts (breasts, butt, waist, thighs) and the shoulders. No mention of hands, legs, feet, or face, which all would help with this description and make it seem less like panning the camera slowly over all the Male Gaze bits. What I can't figure out is whether I'm supposed to see Moreta has having a close-to-hourglass build, or whether I should be imagining her with "swimmer's build", where she has broad shoulders that then taper down in a roughly triangle shape to the hips and thighs, and then further streamlining to the feet, where she would be able to swim an event efficiently by cutting thrive the water with maximum efficiency. It would explain basically everything mentioned - big shoulders, flat chest and butt, strong legs and thighs, slim waist. It would make sense as a dragonrider and fighter, and it avoids the problem we had with Lessa's conventionally-attractive figure despite having lived as a nutritionally-starved drudge for many years. So, in the absence of other evidence, that's my imagining for Moreta - like an Olympic swimmer.

_[An additional note in this particular case is that what Moreta is describing is someone who has been doing significant muscle-building exercises for the grand majority of her life, and had developed the body to do those things very well. For as much as there's rejoicing at the presence of a very popular woman speculative fiction writer, these segments here read much more like one of the old boys describing someone he wants the audience to see in a sexual way, or see as someone who is not living up to the sexual ideal of the culture. This is yet another one of the double-binds that Weyrwomen get caught in, where they are culturally supposed to be super sexy and always theoretically available, even if they have a current partner, while also being able to handle all the duties of taking care of their own dragon (and other injured dragons) and, in conjunction with their headwoman, running the Weyr. It's not impossible for someone to be both a sex icon and at peak athletic capabilities, but it is a lot harder to pull this off when being a sex icon means things like Hartman hips and big breasts and bodies in the top of their athletic prime have very little body fat, which, coincidentally, are mostly what those big breasts are made of. When we get to the Todd books, Lorana and Fiona both have to live this impossibility to a bigger degree than Moreta currently is, but with the additional problem of being very young. At least Moreta is somewhere in middle age, with having ridden a dragon for the better part of twenty years, while Fiona, Lorana, and others are definitely in their teenage years for a lot of their stories.]_

Moreta's thoughts turn to Ruatha and it's TRADITION-based Lord Leef, just about to hand over to a new Lord Alessan, who is not any of the sons of Lord Leef - they all get their own Holds. Sh'gall went to the Gather at Ista to take a look at a curious creature that washed ashore, leaving Moreta free to indulge in her passion of watching races at Ruatha, a passion Sh'gall disapproves of and has restricted heavily. Well, I guess this makes sense, if we treat these Fort Weyrleaders as expies of the Benden Weyrleaders, right down to the controlling streak and attempts to tamp down on the Weyrwoman doing things independently.

Moreta shakes off the issues, and hops on Orlith, her queen, who will soon be laying eggs, to go to Ruatha. The first trip into hyperspace is accompanied by the dragonrider chant of determining distance of hop by how long into the recitation they get:

> Black, blacker, blackest; colder beyond frozen things,  
>  Where is **between** when there is naught  
>  To Life but fragile dragon wings.

Which seems a bit nonsensical, now that I think about it more. I get the first line, describing the hyperspace plane, but the other two don't make sense, even in some metaphorical way.

Orlith lands herself and Moreta in the dancing square, instead of the normal landing zone, attracting a crowd, and the new Lord Holder, who goes through the formalities and is a bit off-put by Moreta's responses and Orlith's decision to buzz the gathering as a demonstration of her abilities. There is gossip about who is attending, about whether the races (which are of runnerbeasts) have begun, and then there's this, about Lord Tolocamp:

> Lord Tolocamp was an energetic, forceful man who spoke his mind and gave his opinion on every topic as if he were the universal expert. As he did not have the least sense of humor, exchanges with him were apt to be awkward and boring. Moreta preferred to avoid his company whenever possible. But, as she was now senior Weyrwoman, she had fewer excuses to do so.  
>  "How many of his ladies came with him?"  
>  "Five." Alessan's voice was carefully neutral.

Well, we knew that Groghe had lots of sons, and if I recall all the way back to Dragonflight, Fax was known to use up women with as much pregnancy as possible, but it seems like Hold culture very strongly encourages multiple marriages for each Holder so as to create as many potential heirs as possible. That would make the Weyrs polyamorous, the Holds in favor of multiple marriages, and the "inhibited" Crafts...?

Lord Alessan, however, has had his wife die recently and would prefer not to get involved in another marriage any time soon. Moreta thinks very dimly of the women being presented to him, as well. But the two share a similar reluctant acceptance of their lack of ability to choose, as well as their new promotions to positions of power, him as a new Lord Holder, her as a queen rider and Weyrwoman. So Alessan uses Moreta as a shield against Tolocamp and his daughters, and they both basically run away as quickly as dignity allowed to watch the runner races. Finding a spot to watch from, as well as a skin of wine, Alessan hops up to watch. Moreta is ready to follow:

> For just a moment, Moreta hesitated. L'mal [the previous Weyrleader] had often chided her about the dignity expected of Weyrwomen, especially outside the precincts of the Weyr, where holder, crafter, and harper could observe and criticise.[...] It was a lovely warm Gather, just the respite she'd needed from her onerous responsibilities all Turn. There was racing and Benden wine, there'd be dancing later. Moreta, Weyrwoman of Fort Weyr, was going to enjoy herself.  
>  **You should, you know,** Orlith commented sleepily.  
>  "Hurry," Alessan said. "They're milling at the start."  
>  Moreta turned to the nearest dragonrider at the wall.  
>  "Give me a leg up, R'limeak, would you?"  
>  "Moreta!"  
>  "Oh, don't be scandalized. I want to see the race start." She arranged her skirts and bent her left knee. "A good lift, R'limeak, I'd rather not scrape my nose on the stones."  
>  R'limeak's lift was not wholehearted. If Alessan's strong hands had not steadied her, she would have slipped.  
>  "How shocked he looks!" Alessan laughed, his green eyes merry.  
>  "It'll do him good. Blue riders can be so prim!"

Well, then. I'm wondering at this point as to whether or not Moreta is another shot at telling a Kylara story, but this time without the giant amounts of slut-shaming. It looks like it _will_ be with the intense pressure to conform to a particular idea of what a Weyrwoman should be, though. So I'm not actually optimistic as to whether Moreta will get through this book without suffering some sort of major injury. For now, though, it seems that she is able to act independently, if only in certain circumstances. I await the dropping of the other shoe with resignation.

Also, this is a pretty good reason why it's highly impractical for someone who is riding a dragon to be wearing a dress or skirts, unless we are supposed to believe that women dragon riders sit sidesaddle, or that these skirts are riding skirts, with slits in them to allow for a more stable riding posture. Considering the Queens Wing fights with flamethrowers, which can't be light things, skirts don't make sense as part of a dragonrider's costume.

_[They absolutely don't make any sense at all. Thankfully, this is one of the few times where skirts as dragonrider costume will be mentioned. Most of the other times, even the Weyrwomen wear helmets and trousers to fly in. Which will also conveniently get rid of whatever scandalous thing it is for Moreta to ask for a boost, where it might be possible others could see up her skirt? The continuing difference between what we are told about the Weyrs and their attitude toward sex and what we are shown in this particular regard. It makes a lot more sense if you recast it as the idea that the Weyrwoman needs to be an ideal lady, but if that's the story we wanted to tell, we could have stuck with an actual Lady Holder. (Except a Lady Holder doesn't have nearly enough agency to do anything, so it has to be a Weyrwoman. We'll explore more about the idea of Weyrwoman as "Lady Holder, but with a dragon" when we get to the Todd books and Fiona, because oh boy does that fit everything discussed here to a tee.]_

Then there is something very nice: an actual temporal reference! The first that I've seen that indicates somebody knows how long it has been since major events happened:

> "The harpers tell us that Fort Hold was thrown together as a temporary accommodation after the Crossing."  
>  "A mere fourteen hundred Turns **temporary**. Whereas we of Ruatha have always been planners. We even have special accommodations for visiting race enthusiasts."

Which means that something happened in between the Sixth and Ninth passes that resulted in the severe destruction of records and a major disconnection from the history of the people there. One would think that Lessa's time jaunt to retrieve the majority of the Weyrs for the Long Interval wouldn't have disrupted the process, especially if it's the harpers who generally have the task of keeping and passing on that knowledge through generations. I wonder what happened to disrupt the transmission of knowledge that much.

The first race is a sprint, and Alessan's runner is the winner - the first in eight Turns...of attempting to breed a long-distance, less hungry runner. So this winner had basically all of the non-preferred traits. Moreta suggests that he let the runner race at other Gathers to collect some purses for himself, before Moreta and Alessan both notice they're being watched heavily and policed subtly, as well as the indefatigable Tolocamp and his daughters appear. So Moreta and Alessan go on the run again, Moreta fighting her skirts at an "undignified lope" and Alessan following behind. Finding a new spot, Moreta reflects that she likes Alessan as unpredictable compared to the other Lords, and Alessan reflects on the bond between Moreta and her dragon.

And thus, our chapter concludes, with people with responsibilities doing their best to ditch them and have a fun day. I think, of the books so far, this is the strongest first chapter I've read. It manages to get the necessary information and setting across, it keeps the action moving, and it tries to be subtle about a possible attraction going on (it mostly fails}. It's a really good first chapter.


	3. Soak Test

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A [soak test](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soak_testing) involves testing a system at typical and peak loads over time to see if there are any problems that develop by having a system available and running for significant amounts of work and time.
> 
> There's also another soak test that happens in this chapter, though, and they always say if you explain the joke, it's not funny, but well, here we are.

Last chapter, Moreta visited a gathering at Ruatha to watch runnerbeasts race and try to avoid the eye of those who wanted to police her choices. She did so in the company of Alessan, the new Lord Holder of Ruatha, who was trying to duck everyone who wanted to ply him with a marriageable daughter and get him hitched after the death of his previous wife. There's a clear chemistry between them, even though it would be scandalous, by the Pernese double-standard, for them to engage with each other too much.

**Moreta, Dragonlady of Pern, Chapter II: Content Notes: Animal death, ableism**

(3.10.43)

Chapter II starts exactly where the last chapter left off - the next race is ready to begin and starts without a hitch, but a tumble during the race has Moreta running toward the field. Of the three beasts that fell, one is not getting up, and isn't trying to, either. While Alessan believes it just tripped, Moreta says otherwise, and the problem is that the animal can't breathe, with a bloody discharge from the nose blocking air attempts. Not that it could breathe if the nose was clear, as its lungs are filling with fluid. There's nothing to do but watch it die. The rider and the two race enthusiasts confer and agree that the circumstances of the death are suspicious, but go check out the other animals just in case there's sickness among them that could be the cause of death. Nothing turns up, and with them already at the stables, Moreta and Alessan go on to check on the beast that won the first race. There's discussion about the absence of prominent Lords with champion stock, we learn more about how much Moreta doesn't like the Lords that are under Fort Weyr's protection, and on the way back, a minor disaster strikes.

> Moreta had opened her mouth to reply when she was suddenly drenched with water. A colorful and original string of invective in Alessan's angry voice told her he had not escaped the slops.  
>  [...Orlith asks what's wrong, and tells Moreta she'll dry out quickly...]  
>  The erring handler, belatedly discovering that he had launched a full bucket of dirty water at the Weyrwoman and the Lord Holder - who didn't ought to be strolling along picket lines when everyone else was off watching the races - proffered Moreta a towel, but the rag had been used for many purposes and merely compounded the problem. Alessan was shouting for clean water and fresh clothes and the location of a vacant tent.  
>  The commotion was sufficient to attract everyone not engrossed in the race just starting. Assistance was offered, and people began running here and there on Alessan's orders while Moreta stood, her beautiful new brown-and-gold gown plastered to her body. She tried to reassure the mortified handler that she took no offense, All the while knowing that her long-awaited afternoon of racing was doomed. She might just as well summon Orlith and go back to the Weyr. She might get her death of cold going **between** in the soggy ruins of her Gather dress, but what choice had she now?

Another reason to forego dresses for riders - wet things and hyperspace don't mix, and dresses take a long time to dry. If the leathers weren't so hot, I would have thought they made an excellent outer uniform for general purposes. I suppose, though, that a high-status woman not in a dress would be a scandalous thing. How I hate your ideas on femininity, Pern.

Moreta is able to change quickly into less flashy clothing and spend the rest of the races in Alessan's company. Along the way, they go to visit Runel, a herdsman with a knack for lineages.

> Runel's expression altered dramatically. He threw back his head and unfocused his eyes, wide-opened. "Alessan's sprinter, Squealer, won the first sprint race at the Ruathan Gather, third month, forty-third turn of the sixth Pass, bred by Alessan out of Dextra, five times winner at sprint races in the west, Leef by Vander's Evest which was nine times winner over sprint distances. Dextra's sire, twice winner, by Dimnal out of Tran, nineteen times winner. Dimnal by Fairex out of Crick, Fairex..."  
>  "There he goes," Dag said to Moreta in an undertone, shaking his head ruefully.

Moreta is curious about Runel's eidetic memory (and calls it such), Alessan is unconcerned about the talent, compared to Dag's scorn. The behaviors here, though, seem to be confusing someone with eidetic memory with the eponymous character in Rain Man. Dag is still an asshole, though, but being an asshole about disability or difference seems to be standard operating procedure for this planet.

_[If you haven't noticed yet, there's a linguistic fascination that runs all throughout these reads and commentaries, because there's just so many words that have survived the trip out into space and then an entire extra history that would need serious explanation as to how they managed it, and other words have disappeared or been replaced by ungainly stuck-together-words. Which would make sense if, say, the dialect of language that is Pernese was something like "English without the constant mugging of other languages in alleys and rifling their pockets for spare grammar" and that it settled more firmly on its Germanic origins, or something similar, but there's never any explanation for why some words survive and others don't, and the patchwork nature of it all is probably enough for an enterprising fan's thesis on linguistics in fictional settings. Something for which I am not trained, but for which an aspiring xenolinguist might have a good go at.]_

Moreta wants to know why Runel isn't in the Harper Hall. Alessan says that his father's granduncle was a Harper for Ruatha, had the eidetic memory, and thus tended to remember things that he should have forgotten. To hear Alessan describe it, the eidetic memory had a genetic component in his bloodline. I don't think it works that way, but I could be wrong.

_[Memory palace techniques and other things like it could be used to train someone into significantly better recall than others, and despite the prevalence of written everything, you could make a strong argument, based on Teaching Songs and Harpers as the primary means of education, that Pern is an oral culture, rather than a written one, and oral cultures often have stronger recall due to carrying more of the information around in their heads and reciting it on the regular. Runel is clearly meant to be someone with even greater abilities than your average Harper, but it's worth mentioning that this might not be genetic, but instead might be the product of a lot of training and, perhaps, even a certain amount of something like what might still be called "savant" behavior - such things are often associated with the autism spectrum, not that this author knew a whole lot about that particular name and grouping. Sometimes the best portrayals someone gets (and of the culture around them's dismissal and hostility toward them) are the ones that aren't intentional.]_

The rest of the races pass amiably enough, except the last, which is too close to call and only dispersed after Alessan adroitly doubles the purse so that it can be split evenly between the two riders. To transport Moreta back to the Hold, Alessan gets to show off the towering endurance beasts his father wanted bred, which can seat two comfortably.

Their arrival at the Gather square attracts an entourage, with Alessan's mother taking charge and escorting Moreta up for a change of clothes from her dusty race-watching outfits.

> In the instant her eyes meet Lady Oma's, Moreta knew the woman disapproved of her as much as Tolocamp did but more for upsetting her own plans for her son's afternoon entertainment than for Moreta's hoyden behavior.

Oma. That's like, Greek for "grandmother", right? Naming is clearly a functional pastime here, right? Also, I think that's the first time I've encountered the word "hoyden", but it certainly seems to apply from what the narrative has shown so far.

Oma offers Moreta a choice of dresses, then Moreta takes a bath after choosing one that will suit her intention to dance hard tonight. Her assigned assistant, Oklina, is chagrined that Moreta is already in her dress and needs no help with hair, so much so that she dashes in quickly when Moreta mentions needing help with the back of the dress. And almost causes another accident.

Oklina is Alessan's sister, and from her, we find out that Alessan wanted to make sure Moreta stayed to dance, that he hasn't danced or sung or been himself since his wife died, that Oklina expects to have absolutely no time to dance tonight, and that she's thrilled at his happiness with regard to the runner victory on the track today. 

Oh, and that Alessan could have been a dragonrider, but his dad forbade it. Which is sandwiched in between the first instance that I know of that actually paints dragonriders in the religious light they have to exist in.

> Moreta smiled, recognizing the girl's yearning to be found on Search and to impress a queen dragon. Once when faced with such envious yearnings, Moreta had felt unaccountable guilt over her good fortune at Impressing Orlith, her friend, her sure consolation, her life. That reaction had gradually been replaced by the knowledge of the great gap between wish, fulfillment, and acceptance. So Moreta could smile kindly at Oklina while her mind reached out to her sleeping dragon.  
>  [...Alessan could have been one, too. Oklina asks how they know...]  
>  " **Search** dragons know," Moreta said in a mysterious voice, a rote reply after so many repetitions. "Each Weyr has dragons who sense the potential in youngsters." Moreta deepened the mystery in her voice. "There are folk, weyrborn, who've known dragons and riders all their lives who don't Impress, and complete strangers - like myself - who do. The dragons always know."  
>  "The dragons always know..." Oklina's whisper was half prayer, half imprecation. She stole a quick look up at the fire-heights as if she feared the somnolent dragons might take offense of they heard.  
>  "Come, Oklina," Moreta said briskly. "I'm dying to dance."

That's the end of the chapter, but that's also the first reaction to dragons that makes sense to me in six books. Oklina is both in awe of the dragons and wants to get one and afraid of the dragons in that she might be rejected, either as a candidate when the search comes to Ruatha, or worse, as a candidate on the Hatching Ground, consigned to whatever fate befalls those women, and have her hopes of achieving a better life than the one she has permanently shattered. Moreta, as the priestess of the dragons, has to maintain the mystery and the allure so that the Weyrs can keep collecting candidates looking to move up in life. At the same time, she understands that the reality of the situation is that she traded running a small household for running a much bigger one, where the person she's supposed to run it with can change based on dragons, and that there's never a guarantee, as with all the other possible marriages, that the man won't turn out to be abusive and worse. There are no good lives for women on Pern.

Also, is it me, or do the gold dragons really seem to prefer people outside the Weyr as their bond partners? Lessa is Hold, Kylara is Hold, Brekke Craft, and Moreta Hold. I think even some of the junior queens are from outside the Weyr. Are the queens selecting those already with strong organizational skills, or do they want people with certain personalities or inner strength that can only be found in the otherwise awful lives found outside the Weyrs? It would be nice to get inside the head of the searching dragons to find out what their criteria are.

_[Later bits of canon will suggest heavily, if not outright confirm, that gold rider candidates are almost always sought from outside the Weyr. If I recall correctly, because gold dragons want women of incredible fortitude, both physically and mentally, and usually someone with some amount of esper ability, so it's also a way of gathering people from the outside with significant psychic powers. (Conveniently, this also consolidates those psychic powers in the Weyrs, instead of having them scattered around.]_

The Gather still isn't over yet. Maybe next chapter we'll see everyone retire for the night.


	4. Don't Believe Me, Just Watch

Last chapter, Moreta got to watch some races, but also took a bucket full of slops to her gold dress, necessitating a change of wardrobe in time for the dances, which will start in this chapter. Alessan and Moreta have been sharing some companionship during the day, so that he can dodge all the ladies hoping to land themselves a Lord Holder, and it seems like they have good chemistry.

**Moreta, Dragonlady of Pern: Chapter III: Content Notes: Ignored Consent**

Moreta arrives at table with Oklina, who would normally disappear now that she's delivered Moreta safely, but Moreta insists there's a place for her at the table, too - and there is one made. Once everyone is situated, the Harpers start up a lively tune and Alessan asks Moreta for a dance, which they both enjoy. Oklina hopes for some dancing, but thinks Alessan will be too busy to ask her, prompting Moreta to scan the crowd for an unoccupied dragonrider. Before she can find a partner, though, someone wants to dance with Moreta, and isn't waiting for her to say okay:

> "Moreta!" A firm hand clasped on her shoulder, and she looked up at B'lerion, bronze Nabeth's rider from the High Reaches Weyr. "There's good music begging your step. And me!"  
>  The bronze rider did not wait for her consent, but took her hand and pulled her into his arms, laughing down at her. "I knew you couldn't resist me." And he winked over Moreta's shoulder at the astonished Oklina as he spun the Weyrwoman off to the square.

And with that introduction, we get to see B'lerion at work being a pick-up artist's wet dream. Oklina is a bit star-struck by the bronze rider, and Moreta's narration suggests that he's the father of her third child. There's some cracks in the ideological facade of the dragonrider, though.

> But then, the strongest, cleverest dragon flew the queen: That was the only way to improve the breed. Twice Sh'gall's Kadith had been the strongest and fastest. Or so Moreta kept telling herself.  
>  [...B'lerion half-teases Moreta about letting Kadith fly Orlith...]  
>  By the intense gleam in his eyes and the sharp hold he took of her waist for the last figure of the dance, B'lerion was half in earnest, Moreta realized. Moreta reminded herself that B'lerion was always in earnest for the duration of any given encounter. A charming opportunist who didn't limit his activities to any one Weyr or Hold.  
>  [...more teasing...]  
>  She laughed and swung away from an embrace that had best be broken. B'lerion's attentions might be misconstrued by some. She owed Sh'gall her undiverted support at least until the Fall ended. As she made her way back to the table, B'lerion followed, smiling at Oklina in imperturbable good humor. Moreta wished he hadn't followed her, noting Oklina's breathless reaction as B'lerion smoothly set himself down beside the girl.  
>  "May I have the next dance with you, Lady Oklina? Moreta will tell you that I'm harmless. I'm also B'lerion, bronze Nabeth's rider from the High Reaches. May I have a sip of your wine?"  
>  "Oh, that's Lady Moreta's wine," Oklina protested, trying to retain possession of the cup B'lerion had seized.  
>  "She'd never deny me a sip of wine, but I'll drink to you and your big dark eyes."  
>  Schooling her own expression, Moreta watched Oklina's, saw her blushing confusion at B'lerion's compliments. She could see the pulse of excitement beating in the girl's slender neck, her quickened breathing. Oklina could not have been more than sixteen Turns. Hold-bred, she'd be married off very soon to some holder or craftmaster to the east or the south, far from Ruatha, strengthening Bloodlines. By the time the Pass ended, Oklina would have children and this Gather day would have been long forgotten. Or, perhaps, better remembered for B'lerion's attentions. She smiled when the harpers struck up a slow and stately dance and B'lerion lead the delighted girl onto the square.

And that, I suspect, is why we have an Author's Note at the beginning of this book about it not being the story the fans were hoping for. Because Sixth Pass Pern is not any better than Ninth Pass Pern at all.

I also am looking at this sequence with B'lerion and seeing so many opportunities for him to walk away wincing in pain from a discreet knee to the genitals. Or, perhaps, an indiscreet one, starting right from the beginning where the narrative even acknowledges that he's not waiting for Moreta's consent before taking her to the dance floor. Since Sixth Pass Pern operates on the same principles as Ninth Pass Pern, it's clear Moreta is expected to just grin and bear it, lest she make some public scandal of refusing to dance with someone. Or hurting a dragonrider for stepping on her consent. Even if he has been a Weyrleader in the past or could be in the future. And even if he was "just being friendly".

I can't really get over the slime dripping off B'lerion and am trying to imagine how he's supposed to be anything other than a creep, with the plausibly-deniable insinuations that he's better for her than Sh'gall is and his immediate recognition of Oklina as a charmable and naive woman to play his game with. Yes, sixteen means different things on Pern than on Terra, but he's fathered kids and the whole thing reminds me far too much of Jaxom and Corana from the last book - she can't really say no because of the power differential, and he doesn't really care about her except as another notch on the bedpost.

Which is another thing - it's still never quite clear what young women, especially young women of some stature, are taught about sex, marriage, and relationships. I don't know if it's "attract as high a stature of person as you can get married to" or "attract as high a stature of person that you can get pregnant by" or something else. If Dunca from Dragonsinger is typical, the young women are being told not to have sex with anyone as it will spoil them for their eventual marriage. While, no doubt, being encouraged to try and snag as high a ranking person as possible in marriage, and eventual childbirth. In that sense, it's probably like a lot of sex education on Terra.

Finally, through this sequence, I think we can get a lot more sympathy for Kylara and her attempts to get out from underneath this system the best way she knew how. Because Moreta still feels like an expy of Kylara at this point, but that worries me as to how this is going to end for her.

The Gather continues, with people from the Ista Gather arriving, panning the creature on display and bringing news of illness in three Holds - a fever. Moreta would like to get Alessan for another dance, but he's having to do his duty with young eligible women who all want to be his wife. At intermission, the Harpers lead everyone in some traditional songs, including one supposedly newly discovered with a haunting tone and tenor to it. This is too early on the timeline for the temporal hop that Lessa does that produces the Question Song, so I wonder what this song is that's so haunting and catchy.

There's food for Moreta after the singing, as she slips away to escape Tolocamp. Alessan finds her, carrying more food and drink, and the two enjoy company with each other, hiding away from their responsibilities.

> "My mother, the good and worthy--"  
>  "--and duty conscious--"  
>  "Has paraded every eligible girl in the west, with all of whom I have dutifully danced. They're not much on talking. By the way, speaking of talking, is that bronze rider who's been monopolizing Oklina a kind and honorable man?"  
>  "B'lerion is kind, and very good company. Is Oklina aware of dragonriders' propensities?"  
>  "As every proper hold girl is." Alessan's tone was dry, acknowledging dragonrider whims and foibles.  
>  "B'lerion is kind and I have known him many Turns," Moreta went on by way of reassurance. Oklina's adoration of her brother was not misplaced if he troubled himself to speak to a Weyrwoman about a bronze rider who was paying marked attention to his sister.

Moreta, you're a liar, unless we're supposed to believe that B'lerion really is all talk with his lecherous grin and complete willingness to override consent. Also, hello, "dragonrider propensities?" Meaning that at least in Sixth Pass Pern, it's known how dragonrider and dragon mating works, and the Hold girls are warned off of getting involved with dragonriders, presumably because it would ruin their later marriage prospects. Dunca really is typical, I guess.

The rest of the Gather passes in dancing, some acrobatic, some not, between Moreta and Alessan, and Moreta is reminded again (as she has been for much of the night) about a man from her past, apprenticed to the same Healer before she went on a different path. Thoroughly exhausted, Moreta heads sleepily back to her own Weyr as Alessan heads to bed. And thus, the Gather itself finally finishes with the end of Chapter III.

We haven't learned a whole lot about what the plot of the book will be by this point, but we have learned a lot about the customs and festival life of Pern not from the perspective of a Harper. It's Sixth Pass Pern, though, so there's no automatic reason to assume that Ninth Pass Pern is the same. I suspect it is, because it's probably easier to keep the world consistent that way, but there shouldn't be an automatic assumption.

_[The comments to this post point out that I might be taking the worst-case scenario here, and that it's possible to read B'lerion in more normal lights, where the remark about him being kind is in relation to how he treats everyone outside of relationships, or that he's better than most dragonriders when he takes someone to bed, or other such things. Or that Moreta thinks that Oklina is about to be shipped off to a life of misery, based on the conversations Moreta and Oklina already had, and so it's pretty harmless for B'lerion to give her a fling and some flirting so that Oklina can have a treasured memory before everything else happens. Those are the kinds of details that it would have been nice to have in the text, rather than having to extrapolate from them. And, at this point in the read, I haven't really had examples of named dragonriders that actually are good people who have been on the screen for more than a little bit. So I'm already prejudiced to read things in the worst possible way, because so far, the dragonriders have not given me a reason to treat them with any sympathy.]_


	5. Heal The Sick

Last chapter, there was a lot of dancing and more chemistry between Moreta and Alessan, even though they won't ever be able to do anything about it. Oklina was charmed by a dragonrider, but everyone is trying to make sure that she doesn't get anything more than charmed. 

**Moreta, Dragonlady of Pern: Chapter IV: Content Notes: None** but the [Idiot Ball](https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/IdiotBall) seems rather strong with this chapter.

(3.11.43)

The chapter opens with the Masterhealer, Capiam, awaking from an unplanned nap with a Lord Holder (Ratoshigan) breathing down his neck, asking for results of his analysis of the sickness afflicting people. Sh'gall is in attendance as well, having conveyed both Healer and Holder to their current location. Capiam relays what he knows.

> Two have died of whatever it is that afflicts them," Capiam said slowly, reluctant to utter the terrifying conclusion that he had reached before exhaustion had overcome him.  
>  "Dead? Two? And you don't **know** what ailed them?"  
>  Out of the corner of his eye, Capiam noticed that Sh'gall had stepped back from the doorway at the mention of death. The Weyrleader was not a man who tolerated injury or illness, having managed to avoid both.  
>  "No, I don't know precisely what ails them. The symptoms--a fever, headache, lack of appetite, the dry hacking cough--are unusually severe and do not respond to any of the commonly effective treatments."  
>  [...here comes the boom...]  
>  "These deaths are but the beginning, Lord Ratoshigan. An epidemic is loose on Pern."  
>  "Is that why you and Talpan had that animal killed?" Sh'gall spoke for the first time, angry surprise in his voice.  
>  "Epidemic?" Ratoshigan waved Sh'gall to silence. "Epidemic! What are you saying, man? Just a few sick-"  
>  "Not a few, Lord Ratoshigan." Capiam pulled his shoulders back and leaned against the cool stucco wall behind him. "Two days ago I was urgently called to Igen Sea Hold. **Forty** were dead, including three of the sailors who had rescued that animal from the sea. Far better that they had left it on its tree trunk!"

Ah, now there's a plot forming for all of us to see. There's a plague, apparently brought on by the animal that the Igen Gather was to look at. Capiam explains his reasoning - the sickness is following wherever the "sea feline", as it's called, has been going. Ratoshigan doesn't understand how a caged animal can transmit sickness, which suggests that Sixth Pass Pern does not have germ theory available to all...except that Capiam then refers to the illness as a virus, which suggests otherwise.

To try and arrest the situation, Capiam orders quarantine under his authority as Masterhealer. Ratoshigan protests and is shouted down by Capiam, who will be administering "empiric treatments since homeopathic remedies have proved ineffectual." 

And then asks to be taken back to his Crafthall, which is a major *headdesk* for me. Presumably, part of this diagnosis of epidemic has been looking into the vectors by which the disease travels - whether it required touch with the creature, touch with an infected, or whether there's an airborne or waterborne component. From the description given of who has fallen ill, it doesn't seem to be limited to touch and there's a strong likelihood that the virus has an air transmission vector. Which means everyone who has come in contact with the creature or anyone who has contact with anyone that has encountered the creature is potentially infected. That includes you, Masterhealer, since both Weyrleader and Lord Holder in the room with you have both had direct contact. Unless you're really sure that traveling through hyperspace nullifies the infection, if you go back, you're potentially becoming a disease vector yourself.

As, we note, are any of the dragonriders that attended the Ista Gather and then went elsewhere, like Ruatha. So if you're going to declare a quarantine, Masterhealer, you should be declaring it planet-wide until you are sure that you know how it spreads, and possibly until you've developed an effective treatment. Because nothing makes a Masterhealer happy like having to play a planet-wide game of Pandemic! with real stakes.

So, really, Masterhealer, you should be staying put right where you are and communicating with the home office by drums to find a cure, so as not to spread the disease yourself.

Incidentally, this is probably why this story has to take place in the Sixth Pass - if we were in the Ninth Pass, with dragonriders fully aware of their powers to twist through time, they might end up sending a single dragonrider, probably one infected, back in time before the discovery of the creature, grab it and move it back out to sea or otherwise prevent its discovery, then go off and live out their life dying of the disease. This would create an unstable time loop, unless the selected rider could forewarn themselves of their mission. Entirely doable, of course.

Anyway, back to the action. It appears that dragons are not affected by the illness, which is good, and neither are wherries or herdbeasts, but runnerbeasts and people are. (Also, apparently, the Healers believe that dragons and wherries are generically related to each other. Because they're both winged creatures?) Capiam has no issues with heading back on the dragon because he assumes that Sh'gall is strong enough to resist any infection. And he does wonder if the cold of hyperspace could kill off an infection before arriving at the Harper Hall, having left instructions with Sh'gall for Moreta and the Healer, Berchar, on how to treat the plague and how long it takes to incubate.

The watchwher gives him an enthusiastic greeting, and Capiam muses on their loyalty and faithfulness, and how he and the Masterharper made sure the apprentices knew not to abuse it. The chained watchwher, that is. Because loyal animals need to be fettered and chained.

Inside the Hall, which is building an annex, the apprentices are asleep, and he doesn't wake them, instead composing messages for the drummers to send to Holds, Halls, and Weyrs about the plague, and collapsing into bed himself, writing a Do Not Disturb message on his door before completely collapsing.

Not much action in this chapter. Although it seems at this point, everyone is really too exhausted to be of use. Perhaps with some rest, they'll be better.

_[There's a certain amount of feelings associated with doing this particular director's commentary during the SARS-CoV-2 pandemic of 02020, because the things that I am telling at Capiam about for not knowing and for doing are the very reasons that the pandemic itself became as big an issue as it did, along with a certain amount of extra yelling at Ratoshigan and Sh'gall, because neither of them are taking the potential pandemic as seriously as they need to, because leaders not taking things seriously is also what contributed to the pandemic's virulence and wide spread. In theory, 21st c. Terra has better medical abilities than Sixth Pass Masterhealer, but there's a lot of looking back at my previous willingness to yell at people for doing pandemic containment and medicine wrong, despite being formally untrained in any medical art, and realizing that I was right then about both what happens in the book and what's happening in 02020. If everyone had gone on planet-wide lockdown from the beginning, things wouldn't be as bad as they were now, but one of the things that happens in politics is that you have to be both right _and_ able to convince everyone else that you are right as well. Which is remarkably hard to do with something that delays the onset of symptoms until after it's already infected plenty of others._

_It's also at this point where the comment section explodes with trying to figure out how the technology level of Pern works, what sorts of things might be plausible about how a Pernese immune system works, and how something like this might happen. Novel coronaviruses are just a thing, of course, but there's also a lot of lost technology (like immunizations and several medical techniques, which we'll get an explanation for in the Todd books that is infuriating), which is incongruous with the fact that the Ancients of Pern use genetic manipulation techniques to grow fire lizards into dragons (and also to create watch-whers, which is another thing that the Todd books do that mess with a lot of the internal explanations and force several more bouts of compartmentalization or hear-tearing frustration in trying to develop a unified timeline and canon for Pern) and yet their descendants seem to lack some of the most basic understanding of everything. Here is the place where we start realizing that keeping a series canon listing is a really good idea once you're past the first book, just so that you don't end up contradicting yourself in a later book. Or with a later author.]_


	6. Prevent The Panic

Last chapter, the full plot of the book was revealed: Plague! The Black Death equivalent of Pern may have arrived on an unknown creature from the sea, and many are already infected, with several deaths recorded.

**Moreta, Dragonlady of Pern: Chapter V: Content Notes:**

(3.11.43)

Chapter V opens with Moreta being roused from sleep by Orlith and Sh'gall. The Weyrleader believes one of the riders may have brought the infection to Fort Weyr, and he's having a panic. Moreta tries to calm him down and get useful information out of him, since he's already gone into hyperspace and bathed in a very cold lake, thinking it will kill the infection. Moreta does actually get useful information from him about symptoms, incubation periods, and methods of suggested treatment before he stumbles off, still fully in panic and with some wine in him. Moreta goes looking for Berchar, a blue rider, somewhat incensed that the Gather was allowed to continue with the knowledge that infectious things might have happened, although Sh'gall seems convinced that nobody knew while they were going on. 

There's a stop at the recordkeeper for the Weyr, the previous Weyrwoman, Leri. Leri is getting on in years and has less joint function in the body, but it appears that her mind works perfectly fine. She has no gossip or information from the Records about any previous epidemics, but between Moreta and Leri, they quickly come to the realization of how bad everything could be and how far things may have already spread. Leri asks Moreta to send up the oldest Records she can find to see if there's anything in them about a disease like what the planet is suffering from.

Heading back toward task, Moreta finds the Weyrlingmaster and explains the situation to him, including the need for records, which he takes on and will task his weyrlings to do once they've finished loading the firestone sacks and washed their hands. Still trying to figure out how not to panic everyone, Moreta stops for breakfast and tells the Weyr herdsman what's going on, and he'll go check the herds for sickness.

Finally, Moreta realizes she should tell her headwoman, Nesso, about this, and to phrase it as a request for a diet change, since "One of her most important duties as Weyrwoman was altering that diet from season to season." The more I hear what the duties of a Senior Weyrwoman are, the more I'm surprised they get out at all, with all the micromanagement that they are responsible for.

Nesso already knows, having stayed up the night before and heard Sh'gall banging about in the beginnings of his panic. Of course, even in the middle of epidemic possibilities, there's still time for snark:

> Moreta knew very well why Nesso imposed on herself the night-hearth duty on a Gather night. The prying woman loved to catch people sneaking in or out; that knowledge gave her a feeling of power.  
>  "Who else in the Weyr knows?"  
>  "Whoever you've been telling before you came to me." And she cast a dark look over her shoulder at Peterpar, who was trudging out of the Cavern.  
>  "What did you actually hear Sh'gall saying?" Moreta knew Nesso's penchant for gossip and also her fallibility in repeating it correctly.  
>  "That there's an epidemic on Pern and everyone will die," Nesso gave Moreta a look of pure indignation. "Which is downright foolish."

Nesso is soon convinced of the seriousness of the epidemic, but believes that Weyr people are hardy and not likely to fall ill to the sickness. Nesso seems quite sensible in this exchange and not likely to contribute to the panic. I still don't see what justification Moreta has for being so snarky about her.

Having informed everyone but Berchar, Moreta asks for a lift from his dragon to the right place. Where she finds out from S'gor that Berchar has the infection and has been trying to medicate himself back to health, using things that Moreta knows and one thing she doesn't. Having convinced herself of the reality of Berchar's sickness by peering in at him, Moreta leaves instructions to talk with him once his fever breaks. 

She heads to the storehouses to check on her supplies of medicine, then back to her Cavern to sleep, with Orlith encouraging her to not fret and to get rest. And, as the last chapter ended, this one also ends with the viewpoint character getting sleep and without much action.


	7. Quarantine the Infected

The last chapter was a bit of filler, with Moreta going about her Weyr informing them of the quarantine order, the suspected cause, and the recommended courses of action. And finding out her usual Healer counterpart is sick with the disease.

**Moreta, Dragonlady of Pern: Chapter VI: Content Notes:**

(3.11.43)

Still the same day in Chapter Six, but this time we're at Ruatha Hold, with Lord Alessan just watching Moreta vanish and thinking of her as his ideal woman. Dag arrives shortly after, noting that many of the runners that were near the one that died have also developed a sickness, and telling Alessan that he's going to move the other stock well away from that area until the sickness passes, and he'll take his grandson with him. In an otherwise throwaway paragraph, though, we get some useful information about Holds of the Sixth Pass:

> Second only to Squealer in Dag's affections was his daughter's youngest son, Fergal, a lively rascal who was more often in the black records than any other holding. Alessan had a sneaking admiration for the lad's ingenuity, but as Lord Holder he could no longer condone the antics that Fergal inspired. His most recent prank had so angered Lady Oma, involving as it did the smirching of guest linens, that he had been forbidden to attend the Gather, and the punishment was enforced by locking the boy in the Hold's cell.

Okay, so now we know that jail (or the dungeons) exists on Pern, and that one of the ways for it to actually be used is to piss off the Lord Holder's mother. (By, perhaps, pissing on the guest bedsheets? Is this supposed to be a callback to Dragondrums, but in Sixth Pass Pern, and in Holder culture, such pranks actually get punished before they get out of hand?) An overarching justice system is still absent, nor is there any indication as to what else the cells might be used for, but I suspect we're supposed to fill in the details from what we know of the relevant Terran history and assume such things are there when the Lord Holder or other designated noble wishes to put someone there for whatever reason they choose.

Alessan goes to bed, picking his way through the crowd of sleeping revelers to his own room, glad that he wasn't forced to share space by his mother, then realizing that she probably arranged it that way thinking he would be taking someone to bed with him tonight. Grateful for the alone time, and realizing he needs to return Moreta's dress to her, he sleeps until awoken by a rough shaking. Lady Oma informs him that the sickness has spread to more runners, and to two people. What gets Alessan moving, however, is that someone is talking to Lord Tolocamp about this and not him, which Alessan rectifies by throwing on clothes and going to the briefing. Alessan chooses to recall anyone that left Ruatha this morning, both humans and people, just to make sure that nobody is carrying sickness back to healthy holds. The visitors and guests grumble at the delay, but Alessan handles all of them while summoning his family to help with logistics and security. His job is made a lot easier when the Harper drums pass a message from the Masterhealer up. We also find a reinforcement that there are more than Harpers that understand drum code.

> As Alessan counted the double-urgent salutation and heard the healer code as originator, he took a moment's pleasure in the astonishment on Tolocamp's face, but lost it as the meat of the message boomed out. Those who could not understand the code caught the fear generated by those who did. Drums were a fine method of communication but too bloody public, Alessan thought savagely.  
>  **Epidemic disease** , the drums rolled, **spreading rapidly across continent from Igen, Keroon, Telgar, Ista. Highly infectious. Highly contagious. Two to four days' incubation. Headache. Fever. Cough. Prevent secondary infection. Fatalities high. Medicate symptoms. Isolate victims. Quarantine effective immediately. Runnerbeasts highly susceptible. Repeat Epidemic warning. No travel permitted. Congregating discouraged. Capiam.**  
>  The final roll commanded the pass-on of the message.

...okay, if that's the exact wording of the message, then drum code is a highly specialized language, and apparently Lord Alessan understands the long tail of it as well. I'm also still trying to figure out how many drums and what kind of technique have to be involved to permit this kind of specialized language and for it to be comprehensible over distance. Back in Dragondrums, it seemed like drum code had a grammar form that purged particles, connectors, and other words that we use in conversation and tried for as few words as possible to convey the message.

It also seems like drum code would be a language that would have a single measure for concepts rather than words, like one measure would represent "foot travel" and then there would be a modifying measure to indicate "fast" or "slow" to say "run" or "no hurry".

Then again, there was apparently a measure for "Oldtimer", so there probably are measures for "run" and "walk" as well, adding complexity to a language that I still can't quite conceive how it works without massive confusion.

_[It doesn't get any better over time, past-self, sorry to say.]_

Getting back to the plot, the news causes all the symptoms of a beginning panic - denial of a problem, bargaining to break the quarantine, and so forth, but Alessan doesn't bend and provides reassurances that the measure is, so far, temporary. Tolocamp ends up helping after initially being in denial. After taking care of the first wave, Alessan's mind immediately goes to logistics - feeding the extra people, where to house the sick, and what to do next.

Next turns out to be the Hold Healer, Scand, who did not understand the message, and describes that his sweatroot treatment has not been effective against the heart palpitations and headache that Vander (the herder in the middle of the sick animals) and two of his subordinates are suffering from. Once informed of the content of the message by a journeyman Harper, Alessan leaves Tolocamp and another Holder in charge of creating makeshift shelters, while he goes to look at the sick animals and get an update on their status. While he's giving orders on how to medicate the stuck runners, a wagon-puller (a herdbeast, rather than a runner) collapses and dies, confirming that it's not a disease that will stay confined to one variety.

And, apparently, one should use the Pernese curse "Shards" in place of the Terran curse "Shit". Apparently Pern does have curse words, and they are related to dragons, the most religious things on the planet.

Anyway, seeing the other beast collapse convinces Alessan that the correct policy at this point is scorched earth.

> "Right, Norman. Get some men up to take charge of that team. Use them as long as they last to haul carcasses. Burn the dead animals down there," Alessan pointed to a dip in the far fields, out of sight from the forecourt and downwind. "Keep track of the dead beasts. Reparation should be made."  
>  "I've no recorder."  
>  "I'll send down one of the fosterlings. I'll also want to know how many people stayed the night down here."

Which is a lovely gesture from Alessan, and I would desperately like to know how those reparations will be made. One-for-one from Alessan's stock of surviving animals? Does Alessan have enough beasts to guarantee this in a timely manner? Or would it be more like an insurance payment, the agreed-upon amount of marks that a runner is worth, paid out of Alessan's coffers? Depending on how far this sickness spreads, Alessan could be looking at a very expensive guarantee.

Alessan's thoughts again turn to Moreta, as he realizes that she made contact with the dead runner. He thought of her as a distant and insular person, and the discovery of her as a racing fan humanized her. And while his mother scolded him for not spending enough time with the women, and he knows he needs to eventually choose a wife and start making sons, he wanted to get away from "stammering insipidy and timorousness". Which puts the nail in, really, that this era of Pern thinks of women in the same way as the future we were just at. Moreta was on an unapproachable pedestal to him, until she and he both slipped out of their roles and hung out, and now he's infatuated with her because she's different from everything else. And then compared to Moreta, no woman can measure up, and their topics of conversation must necessarily become not just unappealing, but inept or inferior, and the women the same.

Maybe it runs in the water at Ruatha, because this seems like a rehash of Jaxom and Sharra, just with a different sickness involved. 

Then again, where we've seen Holder women, there's also almost always been a negative judgment associated with them, because we see them usually in opposition to the protagonists. Kylara came from the Holds and is hissboobad according to the narrative, Mavi is complicit in Yanus's abuse of Menolly and adds some of her own, Sella is a typical literary sibling, Pona and the Mean Girl Squad are more interested in social rank and boys than in manly pursuits like music (clearly the more important thing), which Alessan's suitors are following on the footsteps of, just substitute "racing" for "music", Lady Oma is portrayed as a domineering woman, although not as neurotic about proper behavior as Dunca, it seems (perhaps because son and not daughter?), Oklina as a flighty and naive girl, of which Corana seems to be her mold. Only main characters (Menolly, Moreta, Lessa) or love interests of main characters (Sharra, Moreta, Silvina(?)) are allowed to be complex characters and have good sides. 

Having handled his own house, the next thing Alessan decides is to send messages to the places that would be expecting the return of their revelers and that aren't within earshot of a message drum, and to figure out who else might have infected animals and order their destruction. If Alessan intends on replacing those animals, too, this is going to be a very expensive prospect for him.

Another thing on his mind is trying to keep people calm and controlled. It's noted that one small cell is enough for pranksters, but not for seriously angry people. Tolocamp isn't going to be an angry person, but he's definitely wanting to get back home. Alessan defeats his argument by pointing out how Tolocamp always brags about how good his sons are at running the place while he's gone, and this will be an excellent exercise. Tolocamp points out this emergency is probably beyond anyone's experience, and so Alessan has to fall back to the position that it would be bad form for Tolocamp to break an order he would enforce on others, and Alessan dangles the possibility that Tolocamp could go back of he shows no signs of the sickness. Tolocamp relents:

> "Yes, well. Hold one, hold all." Tolocamp's expression mellowed. "It is true that it would be very poor discipline for me to break a quarantine." He became noticeably more amenable. "This outbreak is probably confined to the racing flats. I have never followed the sport." A disdainful wave of his hand dismissed one of the major pastimes of Pern.

I'm beginning to wonder whether the decision to change the era of this Pern is an excuse to scrap everything and remake the world as much as possible, as the world of the Ninth Pass doesn't talk about racing as much as a "major pastime" would. And since we've gotten away from the dragonriders (who have performed games and races before they had to retrain as a military organization) at that time, I would think some mention of the races would be a regular thing. All I remember is Robinton occasionally laying bets while deliberately saying he never lays bets, a practice Sebell also follows. It would seem like the races would be a common element of small talk, much more than they actually were. But in three Passes, perhaps the races have died out.

After mollifying Tolocamp, Alessan's prediction about angry Holders comes true and Alessan decides he's going to nip this particular problem in the bud.

> Makfar [Alessan's brother] had noticed the deputation and, although Alessan gave Turvine [the angry Holder] his complete attention, he was aware that his brother had signaled armed holders to converge.

This would be a lot easier to imagine if we had any semblance of what "armed" means in this context. Because there's still no real mention of weapons past flamethrowers and belt knives. Clearly this context indicates there's some amount of weapons other than these. And perhaps some amount of body armor, since wherhide can keep out the cold of hyperspace. Swords, axes, polearms...just what are these people armed with? We're no closer to knowing that when we hashed it out in Dragondrums (after expressing a universal revulsion at the tactics Robinton was willing to go to so that Nabol Hold wouldn't fall into conflict after Meron's death).

Continuing...

> "You'll bide here! That's my order!" Alessan spoke forcefully and the men backed off, looking uncertainly for support from Tolocamp. The Fort Holder stiffened, ignoring their tacit plea. Alessan raised his voice, projecting it beyond the group to those watching and listening from the roadway and the forecourt. "The drums have decreed the quarantine! I am your Lord Holder. As surely as if Thread were Falling, you are under my orders. No one, no animal leaves here until that drum"--Alessan jabbed his arm at the tower--"tells us that the quarantine is lifted!"  
>  In the silence that ensued, Alessan strode rapidly toward the hall door, Tolocamp in step behind him.

We'll have to see how well the proclamation sticks, how many of those armed men there will be to help, and what kind of rigging will be needed for those people that end up in the jail. Because I suspect that look at Tolocamp says all we need to know about how well Alessan is going to be respected.

The next order of business is figuring out how to send messages to all the places that don't have drums, can't hear drums, or otherwise need the message relayed to them to hunker down and not travel. Alessan wants to do it without risking people or animals, but before he has to think too hard about it, the Masterharper (Tuero) appears with the other Harpers in tow to offer themselves as the messengers, pointing out that written messages can be relayed without risk of exposure. Alessan accepts the convenient solution and leaves it to the Harpers to organize the relay. They're wrong about relays not causing exposure, but I don't think anyone on Pern has ever actually formulated germ theory and experimented as to what materials and surfaces can transmit disease.

_[They have, at least, figured out relatively quickly that whatever this is, it's something that can infect both beasts and humans. In a world with decent science and understanding about how diseases work and transmit, and possibly some useful microscopes, they might be able to work out the likely vectors and things that are similar enough that make the virus work in both places, and from there have at trying to figure out how to beat it. These things, of course, take time, and time spent results in fatalities. That theme will get revisited when we get to Todd books that deal with plague.]_

Alessan lets Tolocamp use the message drums to send orders back to Fort before the next bad news arrives as he sees the smoke from the mass burning of corpses - Vander has died. And that's the end of the chapter.


	8. Comfort The Afflicted

Last chapter, Alessan had to deal with the reality of enforcing a quarantine when others want to go back home, or at least anywhere but here. For now, the peace is holding together.

**Moreta, Dragonlady of Pern: Chapter VII: Content Notes: Patriarchy**

(3.11.43)

The narrative structure of this book appears to be intentionally switching between the perspectives of the main characters and replaying the same day from all perspectives before moving forward. For this kind of style to work, each perspective has to contribute to the narrative so that a complete picture only appears after all the points of view have been gone through. The last time we saw Moreta, her part consisted mostly of going around and talking to people and repeating the message on the drums. Alessan, as we saw, has to deal with fallout and logistics.

The narrative has cycled back around to Capiam, the Masterhealer, who awakens with a horrible headache, partially in response to the drumming, but mostly because he might be infected with the plague. As he goes for fellis juice to help numb the pain, he realizes that his heartbeat has sped up and he's starting to sweat from the strain of sitting up, standing, and walking to get and prepare the medicine. This does not bode well for the Healer.

> He had had too much experience with sleepless nights and tight schedules to chalk up his condition to such things. He groaned again. He didn't have **time** to be sick. He ought not to have contracted the damnable disease. Healers didn't **get** sick. Besides, he'd been so careful to wash thoroughly in redwort solution after examining each person.  
>  Why didn't the fellis juice work? He couldn't think with the headache. But he had to think. There was so much to be done. His notes to organize, to analyze the course of the disease and the probability of dangerous secondary infections, like pneumonia and other respiratory infections.

Proper washing is a good thing, but it seems like somewhere along the way, the infection prevention mask would have made a most useful appearance. Especially to a profession that had explicitly name-checked viruses in the beginning of the book. They could look like the hooked bird beaks of Terran history, for all we care, but it seems like they should be there, at least for the doctors.

_[Guess what's really helpful for stopping the spread of a novel coronavirus in 02020? Masks, good hand-washing technique, and keeping your distance between people, all three of which will get a mention in this chapter. I'm glad that there was at least some amount of research done on how someone survives a plague.]_

Also, throughout this chapter, Capiam seems remarkably sanguine about the possibility that he could be dead in four days' time, and for someone who has a headache and fever that is apparently interfering with his ability to think. I'm sure that some part of medical training, especially for people who would be joining an organization like MSF, is about the possibility that the protocols might fail, or that the situation is potentially bad enough that they might die, but Capiam seems to have an astoundingly iron will for someone confronted with this disease.

Desdra, a journeywoman, comes to check in him, informs him that the incoming messages are a flood all asking for him and to ask if he needs anything to help him combat the disease. He leaves her instructions about nobody coming near him and about making sure nobody who has a chance of infection comes back to the Hall, since Capiam appears to be the only person infected at this point.

I find it more of the background misogyny that the person sent to check on the Healer is a woman, but perhaps the majority of Healers are women (who are then headed by a man, because again misogyny).

> Anyone who was at either Gather and returns here -"  
>  "Which was forbidden by your drum message -"  
>  "Some wise-ass will think he knows better ... Anyone who comes is to be isolated for four days.  
>  [...]  
>  I shall keep notes on my symptoms and progress. They will be here...in case..."  
>  "My, we are being dramatic."  
>  "You've always maintained that I'd die of something I couldn't cure."  
>  "Don't talk like that, Capiam!" Desdra sounded more angry than fearful.  
>  [...discussion of sleeping apprentices...]  
>  "Tell Fortine, will you, Desdra, that sweatroot has no effect and provides no relief. In fact, I think it is counterproductive. That's what they were using in Igen and Keroon for the first stage of the illness. Tell Fortine to try featherfern to reduce fever. Tell him to try other febrifuges."  
>  "What? All on the same poor patient?"  
>  "He will have patients enough for the different remedies." Capiam spoke from wretched certainty. "Go, Desdra. My head is a drum tower."  
>  Desdra was cruel enough to chuckle softly. Or maybe she thought she was being sympathetic? One never knew what reaction to expect from Desdra. That was part of her charm, but she'd never make Master on the strength of it. She spoke her mind and sometimes a healer **had** to be diplomatic. She certainly didn't soothe Capiam. But he was relieved she was in charge of him.

Okay, we really need to have a discussion here. Just how advanced is the knowledge of healing in the Sixth Pass compared to the Ninth? Pneumonia and other respiratory illnesses? Febrifuges? The Sixth Pass has still had almost 1500 years to forget things and their terms or develop new ones. Yet we continue to have an apparently mostly static language that, at most, seems to be borrowing from German's ability to smash together words to generate new ones. I can't really believe that, and the presence of a word like "wise-ass" completely wrecks it. As far as we know, Pern has no donkeys (plenty of asses, though, and they all seem to be in charge), so there's no reference frame for any sort of ass, wise or otherwise. Linguistic drift should have removed the word by now, and some other phrase ("Some herdbeast that thinks he's a runner") should have taken its place. And all of these lovely Latin and Greek words of medicine have also survived, instead of being replaced by more local equivalents. Healer records would have to be extensive for this to happen, and if they are that way, what sort of cataclysm happens between Sixth and Ninth Pass that the Ninth comes out so impoverished in knowledge?

Second, it appears the trend of "People in power who live near or in the Harper Hall are sexist, misogynistic assholes" dates at least back to the Sixth Pass, as Capiam puts on a fine show of "Desdra will never make Master Healer if she keeps being straightforward and honest about her opinions on matters" right next to "I'm glad the person taking care of me won't try to bullshit me about anything" without noticing the glaring double standard there. If they were talking about her bedside manner, like "she always tells the truth in the most direct fashion possible, without taking into account what will get her patient to do what she wants", then I can see Capiam's objection to her manner. But he can't criticize her for a no-bullshit attitude and then be glad for her no-bullshit attitude in the next sentence.

Plot-wise, Capiam lays down ("lays supine") to try and get the symptoms to subside. The headache lessens, the heart racing doesn't, and so Capiam gives himself a couple drops of aconite and manages to get to sleep. While he sleeps, the action shifts to Moreta, who is being roused from sheep by Orlith, concerned because Holth is upset, which has been precipitated by Sh'gall barging in on Leri and unloading his hysteria about the plague on her, because it kills the elderly first, while Leri says she needs to get information from the ground crews about who is stuck and who isn't. She says she won't get unnecessarily exposed, which Moreta confirms to Orlith, because she won't actually get off Holth to do it. Considering the size of Pern dragons, it sounds logical.

Anyway, it's a shouting match between Leri and Sh'gall when Moreta arrives, and she immediately fans the flames by accusing him of interfering with the queens' wing and upsetting Holth and Leri. Seeing (and hearing agitated dragon rumblings) that things are about to spiral out of control, Leri reins herself in and then gets Moreta and Sh'gall to focus by drawing on the fact that she was senior Weyrwoman for twenty years and using her commanding voice to get them off the distractions. Leri gives instructions about the Threadfall tomorrow, inquires to the status of the two sick riders, and points out that the Weyrs still need Hold tithes and ground crews with Thread about. With one final tweak to both of them about how Leri is the expendable rider, she sends them both off to settle their dragons and everyone else while she continues her search of the Records.

And gives Moreta a neck strap for a riding harness that needs mending so that she has something to do. Which puts her in contact with dragonriders that need reassuring...and orders.

> ...We may have Fall tomorrow but I want no heroes. Headache and fever are the symptoms."  
>  "Then K'lon had the plague?"  
>  "It's possible, but he's hale again."  
>  A worried voice came from the eastern side of the cavern. "What about Berchar?"  
>  "Caught it from K'lon, more than likely, but he and S'gor have isolated themselves, as you are probably aware."  
>  "Sh'gall?"  
>  An uneasy stir rippled around the cavern.  
>  "He was fine ten minutes ago," Moreta said dryly. "He'll fly Thread tomorrow. As we all will."  
>  "Moreta?" T'nure, green Tapeth's rider, rose from his table to speak. "How long did this quarantine condition last?"  
>  "Until Master Capiam rescinds it." She saw the rebellious look on T'nure's face. "Fort Weyr will obey!" Before she finished that injunction, the unmistakable trumpeting of the queens was heard. No lesser dragon would disobey the queens. Moreta thanked Orlith for the timely comment.  
>  [...orders distributed for the riders...]  
>  An approving applause capped her restatement as she sat down, signaling that the discussion was at an end. Nesso stepped up on the dais with a plate of food.  
>  "I think you should know," she said in a low voice, "that all the drum messages sign Fortine as sender now."  
>  "Not Capiam?"  
>  Nesso shook her head slowly from side to side." Not since the first one this noon."  
>  "Has anyone else noticed that?"  
>  Nesso sniffed in offended dignity. "I know my duty too, Weyrwoman."

...aaand drum code gets a little stranger, in that everyone drumming apparently has their own signature measures, which means extra complexity for anybody who supposedly knows drum code. Yet Alessan complained a few chapters ago that drum code is too public for things like a quarantine demand, which suggests that enough people do understand drum code for it not to be the apparently complex thing that it is. I still can't make heads or tails of the idea of what drum code is or how it sounds, and how Fandarel can adapt it for the distance writer.

_[In the comments to this entry, I specifically pointed out that complex dragon code is tough in any sort of landscape where there's the possibility of echo, because echo will turn a drum strike into something very different and potentially cause the misinterpretation of signals. At least Morse code only concerns itself with two states, dit and dah, and even with echo, it should be apparent for any listener which is which, so long as the transmitter isn't coding too quickly that the dits get run together, or an echo from a dah covers up a dit. Drum code is still a mess, and only gets worse.]_

Also, what's the definition of a "lesser dragon"? Because if queens can control any other dragons, tell me again why the women aren't running the place by basically telling the other dragons what's going on? Presumably that control then also extends to the riders of those dragons, because big angry things make humans crunch and taste good with ketchup. I suspect, however, that bronzes are excluded from the "lesser" definition and only the browns, greens, and blues are bound by this thing with the queen dragons. That way the patriarchy of Pern remains undisturbed. (Also, I know that dragons will divert to keep the queen safe, but I think this is the first time we've seen this other ability. It was foreshadowed with Menolly's fair and how Beauty kept them all in line, but there's no guarantee an ability like that survives the transition from fire lizard to dragon.)

After this revelation of signatures, the action returns to a waking Capiam, who is missing a message to Telgar Weyr, but that's all he knows because the disease symptoms are making it impossible to think, much less contemplate writing down his symptoms and their progression. And so the chapter ends with this basically useless paragraph, instead of in the potential hook of the reasons why Fortine is taking over the drum messages. It removes the potential suspense of Capiam being dead or severely incapacitated, more than we've already known from this chapter. The paragraph that ends this should be the first one of the next chapter that stays with Capiam for a while. Blargh.


	9. Perform Your Duty

Last chapter, Capiam started a symptom diary and took mental time to criticize the journeywoman tasked with his care for being too blunt, a quality he appreciates in her.

Moreta, on the other hand, has to contain the histrionic Weyrleader, who is the most likely person to start the panic the Weyr does not need, run the Weyr, and keep a very solid boot on the neck of anybody else who might be thinking of running away or violating the quarantine. At least in that last department, she has the help of the queen dragons.

**Moreta, Dragonlady of Pern: Chapter VIII: Content Notes: Pathophobia, verbal abuse**

(3.12.43)

This is a double-length chapter, so it's either going to have a lot of action or a lot of filler.

Chapter VIII opens the next day with Moreta, making the last paragraph of the last chapter even less useful and more interrupting of the plot. Everyone is getting geared up for the Threadfall set to arrive today. 

I'm going to make a slight diversion here to point out that in the previous chapters, the Weyr was covered in a fog so thick that seeing a few feet in front of you wasn't possible and Moreta had to step very carefully. The fog has lifted, conveniently, in time for Thread, but it does pose an interesting quandary - if Thread falls while the fog is too thick to see it by human eyes, do the dragons still see it and deliver flame on target? Can the dragons see outside the visible human spectrum? Do they have other senses to help them know where the Thread is? And what do the queen riders do in this situation, since their dragons don't flame and the riders can't see what to shoot?

If not, then what happens when Thread rains and nobody can see it? It seems like a nightmare situation all around. Surely someone has come up with a solution, mostly because if Thread is as deadly as it is made out to be, a fog and a Threadfall could spell disaster for the whole continent. If time-twisting hasn't been discovered until the Ninth Pass, so that they wouldn't know to just jump back and roast every bit of fog they can see, then the fog clearing today is the equivalent of the planetary body coming close enough to buzz the atmosphere, freak out all the humans, and then go on its way. I mention this because the author, rather than talking about the preparations being rolled out in case the fog persists, has decided that the problem is just going to go away of its own accord. Based on the track record for worldbuilding thus far, this is not out of the ordinary, but I also suspect that the author wouldn't know what the preparations are in case of fog, anyway.

_[And, in fact, that specific question doesn't get resolved, but we do get at least some answers to "what happens when Fall happens in less than ideal conditions"? in many of the Todd books, and the answer, generally is, "Dragons die in large quantities." Even when they have help to spot the things they need to shoot fire at, or they theoretically should know the lay of their land and its weirdnesses, when conditions are outside of perfect, dragonriders suck at fighting Thread and get injured and killed in large numbers. Which should say something about their training regimen. Another thing we don't get to see much of until the Todd books, and it also is something that causes more aggravation than solves it.]_

Moreta goes to see Leri, who has not found anything in the records that resemble the sickness underway.

> "Weyrfolk don't **get** sick," she had said with considerable disgust. "Bellyache from overeating or drinking raw wines, Threadscore, stupid collision, knife fights, abscesses, kidney and liver infections by the hundreds, but sick? I've looked through twenty Turns after the last Fall"-Leri paused to give a great yawn-"bloody boring. I'll read on, but only because duty requires. Dragonriders are a healthy lot!"

That's not a healthy lot to me. That's a lot that do dangerous work for a living, and probably drink too much to compensate. And then, not satisfied with their dangerous work, get into fights or daredevil antics with each other and the other residents of Pern. So, healthy in the way the stereotypical "tough guy" is healthy.

In making her rounds of the morning, we come across the first information given ever about what happens to people who are candidates but don't become dragonriders:

> Declan and Maylone were runnerhold-bred like herself. Searched the previous Turn for Pelianth's clutch, they had not Impressed. Because Declan had proved himself useful to Berchar, and Maylone was young enough to Impress again, the two had been allowed to stay on in the Weyr.

So those with skills to contribute or that are young enough for another go stay on in the Sixth Pass. Which implies the others go back to where they came from if they don't get their Impression. For queen candidates, that must be particularly harsh, but everyone probably gets a pretty good bout of bad feelings, to have been so close to the elite, only to have the opportunity slip through their fingers.

As Moreta arranges the queens' wing for the Fall, with extra lovely mental commentary about the cattiness of the other queen riders, Sh'gall continues to be a powder keg about infection, having his breakfast set down away from him and berating his scout rider for actually being close enough to talk to a rider from High Reaches. If there was anyone who is a perfect candidate for Alessan's jail cell, Sh'gall is it. He'd stay out of the way of all the people doing work, and he could be as isolated as he wants to be so that his own neuroses don't trigger dangerous consequences.

After breakfast, the pre-flight checklists get Orlith harnessed up, Moreta in flamethrower gear after checking that there's enough agenothree in the tank and the nozzle is clear (the tank goes on her back, which makes me wonder how big and heavy a tank would be needed for the queen wing to be effective), and everyone out to supervise the feeding of firestone. Which is apparently a more dangerous proposition than the Ninth Pass would have us believe -

> ...dragon maneuvered firestone to the grinding surfaces of sturdy teeth, taking the greatest care to set the rock just **so** before applying pressure. The force that would pulverize firestone could also wreak considerable damage to a dragon's tongue. Dragons chewed firestone cautiously.

I wonder how big the rocks are, then, and/or why dragons don't seem to have that species instinct of keeping their tongues away from the teeth while eating.

As it is, after we learn that Moreta is not an all-dragon speaker and that apparently the Weyrleader is the commander when it comes to Thread, we also get to see how dragons are configured to do the fighting:

> Suddenly the farthest wing launched into the sky, high and straight. They would fly the high first westerly stack of the initial three wings. The second level wing flew out, then the third. Once all had achieved their assigned heights, the three wings went **between**. The north-south wings launched next for a cross-flight of the probable line of Fall. They went **between**. The diagonal wings, who would start in the northwest, went aloft and disappeared.  
>  [...impatience to get underway...]  
>  The Weyrleader would take his three wings east, to the line along Crom's plateau where the leading edge of Thread was due. The queens' wing took the final position, sweeping as close to the ground as they safely could. Their slower glide, their more powerful wings gave them more flight stability in erratic wind currents.

...maybe it's me, but it seems like we're getting a lot more worldbuilding in this book than in the six before it. Perhaps because the fans really want to know what goes on there and the author is finally repenting, or has had sufficient time to think about these things and can write them in now, or has to do it now because the main character can't hide behind not knowing anything about their position so as to avoid worldbuilding.

As to the practicalities of flying Thread, I do have a big question - who's playing air traffic control in this scenario? Unless dragons have an ability not mentioned until now to know and then stay at their designated altitude range even while fighting Thread, it would seem there's a high hazard potential for collisions like those mentioned at the beginning of the chapter. Us Terrans and our flying machines have to do with a radio network across the country that regulates which altitudes what flights can fly at. And each plane has a device and a pilot to make sure that everyone flies at their assigned altitude and stays in contact with everyone else. With twelve wings in the air, presumably of at least five dragons each, that's a coordination of sixty dragons, all coming at the Thread from different directions. How do they avoid hitting and flaming each other one they reach the center of the storm, assuming they're all going at the same Fall at the same time? (Doing it in shifts seems unlikely, considering their need to get it all before it hits the ground, but then again, it isn't mentioned how high the highest ranks go, so maybe all the flaming dragons are high enough that they can cover everything in one pass, and then the arrival of the next squadron is timed such that they can go through at similar altitudes and destroy it all before the third group arrives. If that's the case, the timing is either really precise or Sixth Pass Pern knows a thing or three about time traveling on dragons.)

The answer we get, it turns out, is that the dragons are their own communications network, and some of them have enough presence of mind to communicate their status when not engaged fully in fighting Thread. It's not complete information, but those entering or exiting an engagement zone broadcast their status, apparently.

Moreta mentions that the first parts of fighting Thread are generally casualty-free, but that the second hour of the conflict is the one most like to produce injury, as the exuberance wears off (and fatigue starts setting in, I'm guessing. If it takes twelve wings several hours to destroy the Thread rain, the conditioning for dragons and riders must be pretty impressive. It seems like the other Weyrs, assuming they didn't have Fall in their protection zones, would lend out their riders in support and to provide rest phases for the dragons and riders of the primary Weyr. Maybe they do and we just never have it mentioned.

In the quarantine, though, such sharing would probably freak Sh'gall out enough for him to get hurt, so it's an Iron Dragon session against the spores. 

During the Fall, there's the usual desire from the gold dragons to shoot fire, excepting for the sterilizing effects, which are, naturally, perfect for the greens or they will overpopulate. I have to wonder whether the natural predators for fire lizard eggs would also take a swing at killing dragon eggs, if the eggs were left and abandoned in the same way that fire lizards eggs are.

And surely whatever brought dragons from fire lizards would figure it how to breed or manipulate out high frequency of mating.

As the fighting progresses, the queens see a little action from Thread that has gotten through the dragon waves. Directing the queens to a wider sweep, Moreta points out the difficulty of having to sweep back and forth without losing focus, as "The rich dark soil of the plateau held sufficient mineral nourishment to sustain Thread long enough to waste fields that had been brought to fertility over hundreds of Turns of careful husbandry."

...so Thread consumes minerals, but only from organic things or soft enough things that it can burrow? Must be some very specific minerals being sought. What kind of minerals would be common to both plants and animals, but not rocks or other stones?

After some uneventful sweeps, everyone is called to converge at Crom, where the dragon wings do, in fact, intersect with each other as they flame on the Thread, with Moreta nearly singeing a blue rider with her flamethrower as they both chase the same patch of Thread. Moreta points out an ideal Fall would have no wings crossing each other, but that it was difficult to achieve this. Presumably because there's only a limited interval in which all the Thread has to be burnt up, and the large amount of space a Threadfall covers means no single dragon wing can get to all of it in that time. It's a complex operation that we haven't really been privy to the full requirements of up to this point. It would be nice, at some point, to really see the kind of training that weyrlings get so that they can participate in this highly-structured dance.

We get a little bit of what they should be learning as Moreta calls for another tank for her flamethrower and the weyrling comes far too close to the rocks for safety.

> "Don't be clever, T'ragel! Be safe!" Moreta shouted at him. "You could have come out **in** the ridge, not on it! You've never been here before! Hasn't F'neldril drilled it into your skull to have air space landing as well as taking off?"  
>  [...Moreta sets the rider to watch the valley they are at for any signs of movement as punishment for his antics...]  
>  No matter how often they were cautioned by the Weyrlingmaster and Weyrleader, weyrlings inexplicably disappeared and the older dragons grieved. The casualties were such a waste of the Weyr's resources.

Which seems like a major problem with the design or breeding of the dragons and their hyperspace abilities. If inexperienced riders routinely transport themselves into solid rock or other hazards, it seems like there should be a safety mechanism in place to prevent this. A well-formed picture in the rider's head should not permit teleportation into rocks. Unless it's really not the picture that matters, but a set of coordinates obtained from the picture, which could cause issues. But how difficult would it have been for the dragons to be able to see their exit points and adjust accordingly? Or for a system of traffic control to be established over the planet so that when someone wants to teleport in, they can receive an accurate and up-to-the-minute picture of what the airspace looks like at that point, with specific altitudes reserved for weyrlings so that they always get in the habit of providing enough cushion? There have been almost six Passes at this point, and yet this problem hasn't been taken care of, and won't be taken care of at least into the next three Passes. If Weyrs were really concerned about the loss of their young due to teleporting accidents, they'd figure out a way to prevent it, or at least cut the casualty rate down a lot. And with the way that queens can apparently demand compliance from other dragons, that seems like a good way to go as well - the queens order that the dragons will only do safe hops, and the dragons obey.

As it is, the end of Threadfall calls everyone back to the Weyr. The injury report is mostly minor Thread injuries, but there are some bruised ribs and dislocated shoulders, as well as a couple heavily injured dragon wings. Moreta takes a look at Dilenth, who has suffered a significant wing injury that will definitely keep him out of the fighting, and threatens to take away full use of the wing if it heals improperly. Moreta uses Orlith to stop Dilenth from thrashing about so that the injury team can attend to him, and sends Nesso to get supplies and people to help with the mending process. The rider is stuck in self-recrimination about the injury, so much so that his own injuries haven't been tended to. Thankfully, his weyrmate has them and can be ordered to put them on.

I don't actually understand what a weyrmate is, now that I think about it. I sort of assume that it's a romantic relationship between the dragons that produces them, but the people themselves almost always come across more as roomies rather than partners. Even though the only women riders in the Weyr are queen riders. Another opportunity to show off a healthy and adjusted culture of gay relationships wasted.

Nesso returns with sewing supplies, cloth, oil, numbweed salve and several weyrlings to help. After explaining everyone's duties, and admonishing the weyrmate to get sick now over seeing the injury if he's going to, Moreta sets to the mending of the torn wing, using Orlith to keep Dilenth still and keeping up a running commentary of the good things happening while doing the mending so that everyone else has something positive to concentrate on. Once finished, everyone has some wine and lets out their internalized stress. Including Nesso, who apologizes for sending K'lon to convey Tolocamp back to Fort from Ruatha on an emergency drum message.

The second message, though, came in heavily encoded and mentioned that there were sick riders at Igen, Telgar, and Ista Weyrs, which becomes a problem when the time schedules say Thread is due in their area in two days. Which is a message Moreta will have to deliver to Sh'gall, because Nesso won't.

As Moreta makes her way to tell the Weyrleader, she remembers the weyrling she stuck on guard duty and asks Orlith if he came home safely. He did, he told the Weyrlingmaster about what happened, and the Weyrlingmaster would like a word with Moreta about endangering young riders. Moreta intends to give as good as she will get.

The tour of the injured continues, and finishes up with food and a distraction for Nesso, as someone went into labor during the Fall and birth is now imminent. Nesso complains that nobody knows who the father is, because Tellani, the mother, didn't know, promoting Moreta to silently critique Tellani:

> Privately, Moreta blessed Tellani for her timing; she would have respite from the Headwoman, and a birth after Fall was regarded as propitious. The Weyr needed a good dollop of luck. A bou, even of uncertain parentage, would please the dragonriders. She'd have a stern talk with Tellani about keeping track of her lovers - surely a simple enough task even for so loving a woman as Tellani. The Weyr had to be cautious about consanguinity. It might just be the wiser course to foster Tellani's children to other Weyrs.

Well, Pern seems to have remembered or discovered the part where close cousins and siblings are not good matches for each other in terms of genetics. That said, since the children are raised communally and by people who aren't their birth parents, there has to be some way of knowing who has what genes and ancestry. Nominally, the naming conventions for dragonriders would help, since a full name is a portmanteau of the mother and father's names, but that only means dragonriders know. What about daughters? They don't have that convention. It seems like the smartest thing to do is to do what Moreta is thinking, but adopt it as a Weyr-wide policy, like the Lords Holder do - all children in a Weyr are fostered out to other Weyrs so as to avoid, as much as possible, too close of genetic relatives having children together. It's still possible, of course, but that's the risk you run by not knowing completely who your family is.

After Moreta eats, K'lon comes over to explain why he shuttled Tolocamp back to Fort, spinning a bit of a yarn about not having heard the quarantine order, and passing along that all the daughters that were hoping to catch Alessan's eye stayed behind. The implications of that are cut short by Sh'gall's angry entrance, furious that the Holds they were flying over supplied very few ground crews to help with Thread, despite no reported cases of the plague at their locations. Moreta's relay of the sick riders is met with insistence that everyone will do their duty at Fort...and then is roundly undercut by the sound of dragon mourning, announcing the first of seven rider deaths from the fever. This winds Sh'gall up even more, and he demands of Cumir, the Harper, to send out a priority request for a status update on the disease. Fortine sends back that it's considered a pandemic, that isolation is imperative, and a list of things to treat symptoms with. Sh'gall is not satisfied, and asks for a direct reply from Capiam, which Fortine acknowledges but does nothing about. Still frustrated, Sh'gall turns on Moreta.

> "S'gor tells me [Moreta] he [Berchar] has been using what Master Fortine suggests. K'lon **has** recovered."  
>  "But Ch'mon has died!"  
>  His statement became an accusation, and she was at fault.  
>  "The illness is among us, Sh'gall," Moreta said, gathering strength from an inner source whose name was Orlith. "Nothing we can do or say **now** alters that. No one forced us to attend the Gathers, you know." Her wayward humor brought grim smiles to several of the faces about her. "And most of us enjoyed ourselves."  
>  "And look what happened!" Sh'gall's body vibrated with his fury.  
>  "We can't reverse the happening, Sh'gall. K'lon survived the plague as we have survived Thread today and every fall the past forty-three Turns, as we have survived all the other natural disasters that have visited is since the Crossing." She smiled wearily. "We just be good at surviving to have lived so long in this planet."  
>  The weyrfolk and all the riders began to take heart at Moreta's words, but Sh'gall gave her another long stare of outraged disgust and stalked out of the Lower Caverns.  
>  The confrontation had shaken Moreta. She was drained of all energy, even Orlith's, and it had become an effort to keep upright. She gripped the edge of her chair, trembling. It wasn't just Sh'gall's rage but the unpalatable, unavoidable knowledge that she was very likely the next victim of the plague in the Weyr. Her head was beginning to ache and it was not the kind that succeeded tension or the stress and concentration of repairing dragon injuries.

First, here's a great big reason why there needs to be a check or succession plan for Weyrleaders, because Sh'gall is clearly unable to handle this problem. He's panicked, irrationally afraid, and he's going to hurt someone if this continues. Much like how Tolocamp should have been able to let his sons run the Hold, Sh'gall needs to turn over his responsibilities to someone else. He won't, because of the fear, but that's what the escape valve is for, so that a Weyrleader who is clearly compromised can be removed from the business of running the Weyr until the crisis has passed.

_[There's some extra wince over here in 02020 about this, because several people who are in charge of their countries, rather than taking the approach of quarantining and distancing to the extremes Sh'gall is here, which is actually one of the more effective techniques for not getting infected (although Sh'gall's panic and attitude here are not helping at all in terms of developing a proper response and good rules for the Weyr to follow during the quarantine), they basically tried to downplay SARS-CoV-2 as something that wouldn't affect their countries, wouldn't be serious, and that there was no need to panic or make preparations at all. On top of having spent the last several years dismantling the infrastructure and scientific teams that would have helped provide early warning and jump-started on trying to find cures and stocking up on the correct kinds of equipment needed for health workers to treat the infected without getting infected themselves. Like masks, which don't seem to have stuck around here on Sixth Pass Pern. (And that have to be re-invented in Third Pass Pern.) At least one of the people in charge has been concerned about all the wrong aspects of SARS-CoV-2, and doing a lot of "if you don't tell me I'm the greatest and kiss my ass, I'm not going to give you any help in dealing with the outbreak" and similar sorts of antics that have several people clamoring for the activation of the clause in the founding documents that say if the person in charge is unable to discharge their duties, they are removed and the next person in the succession becomes acting head of the government. It turns out that rather than an abundance of panic about their own mortality, we got cursed with someone who is insufficiently concerned about everyone's mortality and far too concerned with how this is affecting his stock portfolio. Joy and happiness.]_

Not related to that, I detect a significant amount of narrative punishment here. It was foreshadowed all this time, with all the nervousness about the runners and her contact and the good time she had with Alessan, but I can't see a narrative reason for Moreta to be infected with the disease. Capiam's story can easily carry the weight of "what is the experience like for someone important to be infected", and Sh'gall and Ruatha are providing more than enough of "how do we keep everyone under control while this disease rages over the planet", so there doesn't seem to be a narrative necessity for Moreta to fall ill, as well. It brings up the history of queen riders being punished by the narrative for being active people with opinions and for having fun with people outside their social caste. With as long as has happened between this book and The White Dragon, I hoped this particular problem would have been caught and removed.

The end of the chapter is Moreta stumbling back to her quarters, where Leri has already laid out the recommended course of treatment for the plague. Moreta gratefully steps in, drinks fellis-laced wine, and falls asleep.


	10. Document the Symptoms

Last time, Fort Weyr flew Thread, Moreta stitched up a dragon, Sh'gall continued to panic about infection, riders at infected Weyrs died, and Moreta fell victim to the plague herself.

**Moreta, Dragonlady of Pern: Chapter IX: Content Notes: Depression, despair**

(3.13.43-3.15.43)

This, too, is a double-length chapter, so we'll see whether this one is worth the length.

Chapter IX returns to Capiam, who is in day three of the infection, and prefers the fever dreams to waking reality at this point. Something keeps him awake, though, and he realizes that it's time for another medicine dose.

> Something impinged on his semiconsciousness and forced him awake. Something he had to do? Yes, something he had to do. He blinked bleary, crusted eyes until he could focus on the timepiece. Nine of the clock. "Oh, it's me. Time for my medicine."  
>  A healer couldn't even be sick without responding to his professional habits.

Wait. Timepiece? "Of the clock?" I think this is the first mention of any sort of timekeeping device that is not the sun of Pern or its moon and stars. And certainly the first one that measures divisions of a day. How does Pern measure its time divisions with regard to day and night? Is this supposed to have been an inheritance that we don't question, despite weeks and years having been renamed? What kind of timepiece are we talking about here? A sundial, marked candles, some sort of clockwork contraption? How big is it? What is it made of? And where is it? Is he looking out a window at a shared large clock, or at a small mantelpiece object? What sort of technological progress are we talking about here?

We'll never know, as Capiam reaches for his symptom journal to record his progress, interrupted several times by a racking cough that's his current torment, even as the fever, headache, body pain, and racing pulse are starting to subside. As he writes and reflects on how being ill is encouraging sympathy for the ill, the drums rattle through the news of the dead dragonriders, which Desdra fills him in on, before depositing a mug of cough syrup in his room and quickly exiting, surprising Capiam with her anticipation. As it turns out, according to the observations of the sickness, Capiam should start recovering the next day. The Records search hasn't turned up anything like this, and so the Healers are still without precedent to rely on. Before the action leaves him, Capiam curses the curiosity that brought this disease to all of them.

We then leave to a meeting on a butte in Keroon the next day of the Weyrleaders, with S'peren standing in for Sh'gall, who is apparently sick from the plague as well as Moreta. The meeting is about figuring a plan for flying Thread even with sick riders and Holds with infections. The High Reaches Weyrleader, S'ligar, proposes that all healthy wings will scramble to wherever Thread is, regardless of where they come from, with the requisite promotions that will entail, and that the queens will take care of the ground and the low-altitude cleanup, possibly assisted by weyrlings on the ground. This works for all present.

Orlith's eggs are discussed, and the other Weyrs agree to send up enough candidates from their own to make sure all the dragons Impress. And finally, the Weyrleaders agree that the South should be interdicted over risk of further infections, rather than explored as had been planned for the end of the Sixth Pass. Business concluded, the Weyrleaders depart.

So we go back to Capiam at the Healer Hall, who is wishing for a different outcome than the one he has now, and for help from the Records of the Ancients, where there are boasts about having eliminated the diseases that plagued the Ancients, and we get a listing of the animals that were brought over in the Crossing.

> [...]the equine from which runners originated; the bovine for the herdbeasts; the ovine, smaller, herdbeasts; the canine; and a smaller variety of the dratted feline plague carrier. The creatures had been brought, in ova (or so the Record put it) from the Ancients' planet of origin which was not the planet Pern, or why had that one point been made so specifically and repeated so often?[...]Couldn't the Ancients have stopped bragging about their achievements long enough to state **how** they had eradicated plague and pandemic? Their success was meaningless without the process.

This is, regrettably, a failure of documentation. The Ancients probably expected to not need such things, or, for that matter, to have to run away from an angry volcano, but it is for these reasons (and other related disasters) that one should always document all things that might be important to the next person or generation that has to deal with something. It's a convenient hand-wave that this data isn't available, though, as I would assume the medical professionals of the era would still be taking notes about infections and other possible diseases in their area anyway, and that leaving clues behind that talk about things like viruses and vaccines might help someone else piece together what happened.

Capiam otherwise suffers the physical ailments and company of his own mind without audible commentary, holding up hope that K'lon was proving the plague could be survived, and assuming that he will do the same. He is starved for company, such that he even hopes for Desdra to be there just so that he doesn't have to suffer alone. And the lack of company and the length of illness has his thoughts heading to darker places:

> Capiam viewed, yet again, that he would have way more tolerance for the ill when he recovered. **When! When!** Not **if. If** was defeatist. How had the many thousands of patients he tended to over his Turns as a healer endured those hours of unrelieved thought and self-examination? Capiam sighed, tears forming at the corners of his eyes: a further manifestation of his terrible inertia. When - yes, **when** \- would he have the strength to resume constructive thought and research?  
>  There **had** to be an answer, a solution, a cure, a therapy, a restorative, a remedy! Something existed somewhere. If the Ancients had been able to cross unimaginable distances, to breed animals from a frozen stew, to create dragons from the template of the legendary fire-lizards, they surely would have been able to overcome bacterium or virus that threatened themselves and those beasts. It could only be a matter of time, Capiam assured his weary self, before those references were discovered.

It certainly doesn't take sickness to get into this mode, but sickness can do awful things with your head.

A new message requesting more medicine spins Capiam into a new worry about supplies before Desdra arrives to calm those fears and give Capiam soup and gossip, which mostly centers on Tolocamp, Fort Weyr, and Ruatha. There's also a threat to send Nerilka to nurse Capiam, which I only mention here because the next book is supposed to be her story, and that she's a daughter of Tolocamp's.

Switch back to Fort Weyr, now with Leri in charge again, with S'peren as her partner during the sickness. They're consulting lists of riders that could be scrambled, and Leri is telling S'peren that Moreta and Orlith have an excellent bond, one worth showing more than they do. K'lon arrives to tell them of Capiam's recovery, marked by his verbal cursing, as well as Capiam's theory that the deaths are not due to the plague, but to infections that follow in on a weakened immune system. If the Lords Holder could separate everyone out enough and keep them all warm, the plague wouldn't be as virulent or deadly.

Those of us who are students of Terran history nod, because many of our outbreaks become epidemics because of the enforced proximity of people, especially those in major metropolitan areas. It allows for the spread of disease on a faster scale.

Leri waits for K'lon to pass out from the drugs that she had S'peren put in his klah, and then sends S'peren out to spread the new knowledge and insist that nobody with even the most remote sign of a possible infection get anywhere near the plague quarantined.

I wonder why we're getting this new information secondhand, instead of through Capiam's head. He knows it better than anyone else, and presumably, when he's not stuck in his own depression, he could mention it to Desdra (and has, at least once, for it to come out and be delivered). It seems like it was there for an excuse to go over to Fort for a bit while the stagehands rearrange the Healer Hall set for this next scene.

A new day starts (3.15.43) at the Hall with Masterharper Tirone and Maaterhealer Capiam poring over various old records. Tirone is wearing an "uncharacteristic" scowl as we join in. After a quick discussion of how Tirone has basically managed to avoid the plague at every turn he could have caught it, we have the two men documenting what has gone on to this point.

> "If I don't get details from you, Capiam, I shall be forced to rely on hearsay and that is not a proper source for a Masterharper."

Because they're usually spreading it rather than reacting to it. Anyway,

> "Tirone, I am not about to die. While I laud your zealous desire for a true and accurate account, I have a more pressing duty!" Capiam raised the ledger. "I may have recovered but I have to find out how to cure or so this wretched disease before it kills further thousands."

Tirone pacifies Capiam with the knowledge that Desdra threatened him if he tired Capiam, and then goes back to badgering him about everything because nobody seems willing to talk to him. Before Capiam begins, though, an offhand comment spells out just how far things have gone.

> "Talpan...now there's the man you should be talking to when this is over."  
>  "That won't be possible. Shards! Weren't you told?" The Harper half-rose from his chair, hand outstretched in sympathy.  
>  "I'm all right. No, I didn't know." Capiam closed his eyes for a moment to absorb that shock. "I suspect they thought it would depress me. It does. He was a fine man, with a quick, clever mind. Herdmaster potential." Capiam heard another swift intake of breath from Tirone and opened his eyes. "Masterherdsman Trume as well?" And when Tirone nodded confirmation, Capiam steeled himself. So that was why Tirone has been allowed to see him: to break the news. "I think you'd better tell me the rest of the bad news that neither Desdra nor Fortine voiced. It won't hurt half as much now. I'm numb."  
>  [...Tirone describes the casualties, including the fact that many of the healers who tried to fight the disease have succumbed to it...]  
>  "They brought honor to your hall."  
>  Capiam's heart thumped slowly in his anguish. All dead? Mibbut, gentle Kylos, the earthy Loreana, earnest Rapal, the bone-setter Seel, Galnish? All of them? Could it really be only **seven** days ago that he had first had word of the dreadful sickness? And those he had attended at Keroon and Igen already sick to their deaths with it? Though he was now positive that the plague itself didn't kill, the living had to face another sort of death, the death of hopes and friendships and what might have been in the futures of those whose lives were abruptly ended. And so near to the promise and freedom of an Interval! Capiam felt tears sliding down his cheeks but they eased the tight constriction in his chest. He let them flow, breathing slowly in and out until his emotions were in hand again. He couldn't think emotionally, he must think professionally.

And you know what would help right now? A friend. A person for whom Capiam can grieve with and nobody will pass judgment. Because this part where he thinks he needs to be professional instead of emotional?

**_It's bullshit._ **

Grief is not avoidable. It can be put off for a time, perhaps, but it does not simply go away by being ignored. Big grief, like the radical restructuring of the world that will happen at the end of the pandemic, will not simply disappear. And while I can say that Capiam needs a therapist, we have already established that there are none on this planet. Apparently nobody has seen the need it has taken up the mantle of professional listener, even though they're are clearly regular events happening on Pern that would and should scare the natives shitless, even if there are dragons flaming in the sky. The generations born into Thread that may not actually see an Interval are more likely, I would guess, to have problems in their lives, since the only thing they've known since they were young is the terror of Threadfall. To have a pandemic on top of that has to be wretched for the psyche. The whole planet needs therapists, and yet there are none. Possibly because of attitudes like this that seek to compartmentalize very real emotions like grief.

We also see the most detailed description of the "feline" to this point, after Tirone asks whether Capiam has actually seen it.

> Capiam would never forget its snarling face, the white and black whiskers that sprang from its thick muzzle, the brown stains on its tusks, the nicks in its laid-back tufted ears, the dark-brown medallions of its markings that were so fancifully ringed with black and set off on the tawny, shining coat. He could remember its fierce defiance and had even then, when he'd first seen it, conceived the notion that the creature knew perfectly well that it would take revenge on the beings who had restricted it to a cage, who had stated at it in every hold and hall.

Is this supposed to be a sea lion of some sort, maybe? I know we're not supposed to be paying attention to all of these things, but the paucity of detail about the world makes even throwaway stuff worthy of further inquiry.

_[Actually, if I pay better attention to what's been said ad what I've already quoted, both in this chapter and elsewhere, it's a giant cat of some sort that was washed up on the shore, apparently carrying this pathogen that works on cats, horses, and humans, which is a mean feat to accomplish, I have to say. The people in the comments have been patiently telling me what's happening, but since at the time, I was composing at a less complete-chunks at a time rate, I missed the part earlier, despite quoting it, that cats came on the colony ships. Mostly because we're not yet to the stories where someone decides it's a good idea to try and create big cats with bigger intelligences and the plan goes exactly as well as you are thinking it will. But seriously, self, it's a big feline that came from the sea. Ah, well, we all have off days/weeks/months.]_

Capiam details how he and Talpan both came to the conclusion that the creature was the cause of the infection, and Tirone offhandedly dismisses the Southern Continent as too threatening to life, earning him a strong rebuke from Capiam about where everything came from.

> "Life and its maintenance are **my** province, Masterharper." Capiam held up the ancient ledger and waggled it at Tirone. "As the creation and development of life was once the province of our ancestors. The Ancients brought with them from the Southern Continent all the animals we have here with us today, including the dragons which they generically engineered for their unique purpose."

So, here we are again with the Sixth Pass knowing so much more than the Ninth Pass, including what genetic engineering is and how it was used. This plague can't be the whole reason for the complete loss of knowledge in those intervening times...

> "It is knowledge as well as life that is being lost all over Pern. What you should be jotting down as fast as you can push your fist is knowledge, the techniques that are dying in men's minds and cannot be recovered." Capiam waved the Record about, Tirone eyeing it with alarm. "As we can't recover from all the ledgers and Records of the Ancients exactly how they performed the miracles they did. And it's not the miracles so much as the working, the day-to-day routine which the Ancients didn't bother to record because it was **common knowledge**. A common knowledge that is no longer common. That's what we're missing. And we may have lost a lot more of that common knowledge over the past seven days! More than we can ever replace!"  
>  Capiam lay back, exhausted by his outburst, the Records a heavy weight on his guts. That sense of loss, the pressure of that anxiety, had been growing inside him. That morning, when the lethargy had passed, he had been disquietingly aware of the many facts, practices, and intuitions he had never written down, had never thought to elaborate on his private notes. Ordinarily he would have passed them on to his journeymen as they grasped the complexities of their craft. Some matters he had been told by his masters, which they had gleaned from their tutors or from their working experiences, but the transfer of information and its interpretation had been verbal in all too many instances, passed on to those who would need to know.  
>  Capiam became aware that Tirone was staring at him. He had not meant to harangue; that was generally Tirone's function.  
>  "I could not agree with you more, Capiam," Tirone began tentatively, pausing to clear his throat. "But people of all ranks and Crafts tend to keep some secrets which-"

_[One very loud, very profane cocowhat here.]_

THIS. THIS. THIS IS (one of the many reasons) WHY PERN CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS.

Faced with the possibility that useful, important, necessary knowledge to the functioning of the world might be lost, Tirone says "But Craft Secrets..." instead of "Right you are! I'll use my position to insist that documentation is the most important thing for everyone to engage in right now!" Because, whether a tiny project to do a small thing or the basics by which your profession is constructed, documentation is the easiest way to ensure the preservation of knowledge and ensure that someone else can replicate or modify it when new functions are needed. Capiam and Tirone are hip deep in a problem that got extra complicated because their predecessors failed to document appropriately and nobody has yet built an index of Records such that the relevant works would be easily accessible, either. If someone had taken time to document beforehand, and the Archivists had enough staff to build finding aids, then this could have gone a lot smoother and with less fatalities. Capiam is asking Tirone to help him preserve knowledge, something the Masterharper should be very interested in, whether with altruistic motives or Machiavellian ones, and that he can help accomplish due to his position as Masterharper, and Tirone balks over Craft Secrets. As the people with those secrets are potentially dying.

_[Yet another reference to the fact that despite having the people who could impose an order of archiving, a system of understanding, a way of creating finding aids, and all the things that are needed to make the Records something other than useless unless the plot needs them, they consistently do not exist, and it makes the information professional go RAGE.]_

This line of inquiry is cut short by drum news from Igen that enough dragonriders were able to fly the Threadfall today, to Capiam's great surprise. While Tirone is ready to wax poetic about the virtues of the dragonriders, the mention of Threadfighting in their blood rings a very distant bell in Capiam's brain.

> Blood! That's what Tirone had said. It's in their blood! Blood! Capiam hit his temples with the heels of his hands as of he could jolt the vagrant memory into recall. He could almost hear the creaky old voice of old Master Gallardy. Yes, he'd been preparing for his journeyman's examinations and old Gallardy had been droning on and on about unusual and obsolescent techniques. Something to do with blood. Gallardy had been talking about the curative properties of blood--blood what? Blood serum! That was it!  
>  Blood serum as an extreme remedy for contagious or virulent disease.

And so Capiam sets to recovering his own notes and old Records, much to Desdra's dismay and worry about his still weakened state. Finding what he is looking for, he explains that taking blood from those that have survived, spinning it so that the serum rises to the top, and then using that serum to inoculate others is a way of getting the pandemic under control. And with a worldwide distribution network that can be called in as a favor to spread vaccine, it's quite possible this could turn out well.

Capiam sends out Desdra to collect the things needed to draw and store blood, including syringes with stoppers, a jar, needlethorns, reeds to carry the blood, and redwort solution for sterilization, and then returns to his notes, with a long list of diseases that had been prevented by vaccination, and the calculations needed to create serum - 1.5 litres of blood produces 50 mils of serum, of which 1-10 mils are needed for the immunization. Here is also the first mention that the metric system had survived into the Sixth Pass. It's not unusual, necessarily, that this is so, as metric is an easy system to remember and propagate, but I do wonder where the Bureau of Weights and Measures is that keeps the official definitions of what constitutes these things.

Desdra returns with the supplies, and Capiam has her draw off some of his blood (needlethorn in syringe, with reed to carry blood to jar) and then, after firmly sealing the jar and tying a rope to it, has Desdra swing it about very hard to generate the necessary force to separate serum from other blood components. After explaining the need to inject the serum to Desdra, she wryly points out that Capiam has a test subject - Fortine has contacted the illness.

And that's the end of the chapter.

I'm not very up on my immunology, but if Fortine has already contracted the disease in its full form, are we relying on the antibodies in the serum to effectively fight the disease and to teach the other antibodies how it's done? I'd like to believe, that with as much knowledge as Capiam has about the immune system, that he has an idea of how many things could go sideways with this plan, even if it is the best plan that's available.

Presumably, if they weren't already eradicated from the gene pool, blood-borne pathogens would be a real issue right now. There's nothing to suggest they're gone, unless we're supposed to take from the previous list of vaccinated diseases that issues that would be associated with blood were also taken care of. The plague happening now, however, suggests that even previous immunities may not be effective against new mutations that Pern had had time to develop over the many Passes that humans have been here. So there's always the possibility that the serum could confer immunity to one disease, only to open a vulnerability to another. And, if the statement about liver and kidney disease is true, I believe several forms of hepatitis are blood-transferable.

This is clearly a desperate move on Capiam's part, and with no microscopes or government entities to ensure a sterile supply of blood, Pern's survival is rolling the dice that everyone who has survived so far isn't carrying anything else, and that the procedures developed so far have adequate sterility so that the serum isn't contaminated with something else. It's not going to be pretty if the dice roll poorly.


	11. Rest and Recovery

Last chapter, Capiam developed a desperate plan to confer immunity to the plague by transferring blood serum from those who have survived it to those who are at risk for infection. Presumably, the antibodies will go across and be strong enough to fight off infection already in progress as well as prevent new infections.

**Moreta, Dragonlady of Pern: Chapter X: Content Notes: Performance Masculinity**

(3.16.43)

The chapter begins with Moreta awakening to Orlith saying she's over the plague and on the mend, and that Capiam has developed the serum that apparently prevents the infection, as Orlith provides no details when Moreta asks whether it functions as a cure. We also get a tantalizing detail that Capiam has given the plague a name, one of the ancient names as befitting an ancient disease, but Orlith doesn't remember what it is, with dragons not really being wired to remember names.

Matters of the belly come next, with Leri bringing breakfast and news to get Moreta back up to speed - Sh'gall is sick, Nesso is being directed, and Orlith ate in the morning after many days of tending to Moreta. Leri is skeptical about the serum solution, and has been basically instructing the dragons to provide support for their riders in the same way Orlith has for Moreta, acting as pain blockers, fatigue chasers, and otherwise preventing their riders from feeling the full effects of the sickness while their bodies rested.

We also have a textual codification of the caste system in how Leri lays out how the vaccine will be distributed because of the currently limited supply.

> "So the Weyrwomen decided that the High Reaches' riders must be vaccinated"-she stumbled over the unfamiliar term-"since we must all look to S'ligar and Falga. As more of the serum is prepared, other Weyrs will be vaccinated. Right now Capiam has the drums burning to find more people who have recovered from this viral influence. First dragonriders"-Leri ticked off each name on a finger-"then Healers, **then** Lords Holder and other Craftsmasters, except for Tirone, which, I think no matter how Tolocamp objects, is sensible."

So we're clear here - first dragonriders, presumably because Thread, then Healers, because sickness contacts, and only then do the nobles and guild leaders get theirs, except the MasterHarper, who presumably gets pushed to the front of the queue because of his role as the creator of society and history. No mention at all for the smaller holders, the normal people, and the drudges. Because they're the little people, not worth thinking about or caring about. Must protect the people who maintain the social stratification first, after you've taken care of the mission-critical people.

During this entire book, we have had to basically assume that Sixth Pass riders don't know about the time travel skills of their dragons, or else this whole plague thing could have been avoided through the use of a stealthy timeline change right at the beginning. Unless, of course, the alternative is worse, and the plague was coming anyway, which makes having a convenient blame helpful. Or that our top castes were okay with a mass death event and are only having panic of their own because they weren't able to seal themselves in well enough to prevent their own infection.

_[A Masque of the Red Death joke here is entirely appropriate. Even if it's a forced laugh because the SARS-CoV-2 pandemic ended up with exactly this kind of situation, where certain political, media, and celebrity figures were entirely okay with people dying in droves, thinking that is just the cold reality of things, and were more afraid of themselves becoming infected in some way than in trying to work in shared humanity and being willing to help others out with their wealth, their influence, or other such things.]_

Some of that darker speculation is put to rest, or at least Moreta isn't involved, when Leri tells Moreta that her home Hold and all her family have died from the plague, no survivors, and the animals, too. To prevent her from grieving too hard, Orlith buffers the sadness with her own unconditional love, and then the drugged wine that Moreta drank helps with detaching her from her sadness, so that she can hear the whole litany without too much grief, including an outburst at how unfair it is and how it's not okay that her bloodline, just established, is now going to be entirely wiped out, and then the wine drops her off at sleep with the dragons (Holth and Orlith) pushing her into it.

Meanwhile, at Ruatha, vaccinations are going on. K'lon and a healer, Follen, discuss the logistics of collecting blood, and K'lon describes the scene of arriving at Ruatha as something that might read from an apocalyptic movie.

> The monstrous burial mounds in the river field, the wide circle of charnel fires near the race flats, the abandoned tents built on Gather-stall frames had indicated the magnitude of Ruatha's attempt to survive. The sad tatters of the gaudy Gather flags, hanging from the upper tiers of the closely shuttered windows, had struck K'lon as grotesque, a mockery of the gaiety that was Gathering in the midst of the tragedy that had befallen the Hold. Bits and pieces of trash skittered across the forlorn dancing square and the roadway while a kettle swung noisily on its tripod over a long-dead fire, its ladle banging in time to gusts of the bitter-cold wind.

Pretty good description of devastation having visited the Hold.

K'lon sees Alessan, who is tending to his sister, showing signs of the stress of his Hold, and grimly aware of the stress and fatigue. And the lack of supplies.

> "Medicines, first of all. We have no aconite, not a dram of febrifuge left, only an ineffective syrup for that wretched cough, no thymus, hyssop, ezob, no flour, no salt. Blackstone is almost depleted, and there have been no vegetables or meat for three days." He handed the sheet to K'lon, a wry smile on his lips. "See how timely your arrival is? Tuero sent the last drum message this morning before he collapsed. I doubt I should have had the strength to climb the tower."  
>  K'lon took the sheet with a hand that shook only slightly less than the hand that offered it.  
>  [...And then the recriminations begin. Alessan feels that his having held the Gather brought this destruction on himself, as K'lon hastens to tell him that the quarantine imposed here saved lives elsewhere....]  
>  Alessan turned abruptly from the window. "You must bear to Lord Tolocamp my most profound condolences for the loss of Lady Pendra and her daughters. They nursed the sick until they were themselves overcome. They were valiant." Alessan's message was no less sincere for the abruptness of its tone.  
>  K'lon acknowledged the message with a sharp inclination of his head. He was not the only one who would forever fault Lord Tolocamp for running from Ruatha. There were those who held the opinion that Tolocamp had been eminently correct to put the welfare of his Hold above that of his Lady and his daughters. Lord Tolocamp had remained secure in his apartment at Fort Hold while Ruatha suffered and died. Tolocamp would be spared the disease since he had vehemently insisted on being vaccinated despite the priorities set by the Weyrwomen and Master Capiam.

So, by the standard of the world that's been established, Tolocamp is going to be seen as a coward by many, because he insisted on his own survival, and all the people here are going to resent him for that. If it were a matter of "he abandoned his daughters and wife to a plague that was likely to kill them and made no effort to help", that could be an almost feminist reading. But there's an equally insistent part of it that says Tolocamp upset the proper order of things, that he behaved above his station and got vaccinated by being a squeaky wheel. And that he did not behave with the stoicism required for someone of his station. So it's really more about insufficient performance masculinity than anything else, it seems. Just like the rest of the planet./

_[The comments also pointed out that it's potentially a failure of noblesse oblige, that part of being a noble and having the power that you were entrusted with was that you would use it responsibly to make sure your people stayed healthy and alive. By locking himself in his own apartment and insisting on vaccination, Tolocamp ensures his own survival, but at a grisly cost, including his wife and daughters. By putting himself above his people, Tolocamp has indicated that he's not fit for the duty of being a Lord Holder. Not that it matters, unless there's a way of relieving him of the post and installing someone else. I mean, someone could just knife him, sure, but he has enough sons that it would cause civil unrest, an that's the last thing needed in this particular situation.]_

The remainder of the chapter is K'lon trying to get away as fast as polite, so that he can go to his companion and snuggle against the new reality and its taste for death.


	12. Beginning to Fight Back

Last chapter, the vaccination process began, with the order set by the dragonriders and Healers to heal themselves, and then perhaps the Lords Holder as needed. The rest of the chapter was devoted to giving us a glimpse inside Ruatha and showing how it would serve excellently for the set for a season of a zombie show, or any other post-apocalyptic wasteland.

**Moreta, Dragonlady of Pern: Chapter XI: Content Notes: Verbal abuse, emotional abuse**

(3.17.43)

This chapter opens with a fainting dragonrider - Sh'gall, the Weyrleader, has passed out giving blood to have serum made, resulting in the Healer, Jallora, quipping that it tends to be the big strong guys that faint and that are the worst patients. There's a running gag of storytelling and media that this is the case, because the juxtaposition is great for comedy, and because it occasionally has a basis in reality - ask many of those who run school-based blood drives and those who see lots of people donating, and they will have stories of big burly men who have taken a look at the needle and passed out cold. (And of those barely five feet tall and flirting with the minimum weight requirements who don't take no for an answer and want to watch the needle go in.) Jallora collects her liter, compliments Moreta's job on the wing repair Moreta did before falling ill, and gives Sh'gall a gentle ribbing about his fainting.

Also mentioned:

> The journeywoman had interrupted an interview between Moreta and Sh'gall in which he had been determined to find fault with every provision made in the Weyr since the onset of the illness. He utterly discounted the fact that Moreta had not made any of the decisions or that she herself had just recovered.

And Sh'gall continues to be in the great tradition of Weyrleaders that prefer their partners intimidated, abused, and always to blame for anything that isn't perfect in the way they believe it should be. Sadly, this makes them perfectly normal in our world, too.

Like most people with an overinflated ego and an overinvestment in toxic and performative masculinity, Sh'gall is pouting about how he got blood taken, how Leri took over and didn't listen to his preferences, that the Masterhealer wasn't there to personally vaccinate them, that there's a _wingsecond_ leading a Threadfighting excursion (oh, the horror!), and that, well, he's still sick with the world so very, very out of whack, and so he can't do anything to fix it. There could be some sort of unapproved activity going on, or someone might not be showing Sh'gall the correct amount of respect he believes his position demands.

We note that the narrative has been doing a much better job of dryly pointing out to us, often from Moreta's point of view, that Sh'gall is not Weyrleader because of his abilities to actually lead, save perhaps the ability to lead fighting dragons against Thread. 

_[My past self has apparently been prophetic in many, many ways, as this snarky description of Sh'gall and what he wants from everyone around him perfectly mirrors the observed and documented behavior of a leader of a country in how he does or does not help the subordinate administrative units of the country, to the point where he explicitly says that if people aren't sufficiently fawningly nice to him, he doesn't take their calls or their requests for the lifesaving equipment they need to keep their own people alive. Younger-me didn't actually know this was going to happen, but they've certainly hit the nail on the head about what is going to happen in the future.]_

It seems apt to point out at this moment that dragons mating is no basis for a system of government. Someone distributing swords from water might work better than this.

Moreta spares Sh'gall a charitable thought about his tantrums being about not being able to deal with the pandemic before going to see Leri, who is amused at Sh'gall, and has no intention of letting Moreta curtail her flying with the queen wing, now that she finally has an excuse to do so. As they discuss medicine and suppliers, Moreta has a wave of grief in relation to the new reality of her family's destruction, and then K'lon arrives.

Of note, although not related to the medicine discussion:

> "I sometimes think I have more than two ears and one head."  
>  **I don't have ears** , Orlith remarked.

Um, what? Dragons vocalize in addition to their telepathic abilities, so presumably they have an organ developed to process audio and make sense of it. Which, to humans, would be an ear.

It's possible, though, that this is a miscommunication - if Moreta visualized a picture of a human pair of heads with extra ears when she quipped, Orlith could be right - she doesn't have human ears. Still, it's a very odd remark for a dragon to be making.

K'lon's arrival comes with news of medicine, but quickly devolves into his personal life as Leri picks up on something that takes Moreta a couple goes-round to figure out:

> "Done a lot of sunning with A'murry, haven't you, K'lon?" Leri asked.  
>  Moreta shot her a quick look for her voice was suspiciously coy.  
>  "When I've had the time." K'lon stammered slightly, fussing nervously with the pack.  
>  "You mean"--Moreta had at last reached Leri's conclusion--"you've **taken** time to be with A'murry!"  
>  "When I think of how hard I've worked-" Rogeth bugled outside the Weyr.  
>  "No one is faulting you, K'lon," Leri said quickly. Holth crooned reassurance, her eyes whirling bluely. "But, my dear boy, you've been taking a dreadful risk timing it. You could meet yourself coming and going-"  
>  "But I haven't. I've been very careful!" K'lon's tone was defiant and fearful.

Okay, so that theory I had where the Sixth Pass hasn't discovered time travel so that they can't just warp back and pull a 12 Monkeys scenario to avoid the plague in the first place? It's about to get completely destroyed, isn't it?

So, alternate theories:

  1. Fixed points, in the vein of Doctor Who, exist. Messing with them brings out the [Clock Roaches](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ClockRoaches) in such a way that all attempts at avoiding this tragedy result in timeline destruction or worse disasters.
  2. No warp-capable pictures exist of the necessary time coordinates or something close to it, even after querying the collective fire-lizard memory many Passes later to see if there was one close enough by to have observed the action.
  3. The aftermath of the plague benefits the dragonriders to such a degree that they are willing to sacrifice their own in history to bring about their superior future.



Make your own theories in the comments!

Admittedly, this is what [a commentator] and others have mentioned before - if you introduce time travel into a story, the story becomes about time travel. It seems like there's a lot that could have been prevented by time travel. Even original disasters like the volcanic eruption that forced the Ancients away seems like it could be fixed or mitigated through the judicious use of dragonriders. And we have yet to see a particularly good reason as to why dragonriders don't interfere in the timeline more.

> "Just how many hours have you been putting into your days?" Leri spoke with great understanding and compassion, even a hint of amusement.  
>  "I don't know. I never counted hours!" K'lon jerked his chin up, rebellious. "I had to, you know. To get everything done and still make time to be with A'murry. I had **promised** him that I'd be in Igen every afternoon no matter how busy I was. I had to keep that promise. And I felt **compelled** to render Master Capiam the assistance **he** had to have-"  
>  "Believe us, K'lon," Moreta said when he turned to her in appeal, "we are profoundly grateful to you for your courage and dedication over the past week. But timing is a tricky business."  
>  "And something our Weyrlingmaster certainly never mentioned," K'lon replied with an edge to his voice.  
>  "That information is restricted to bronze and queen dragons, K'lon. I presume you discovered it by chance."  
>  "Yes, rather." K'lon's expression mirrored the surprise he must have had. "I was late, I knew A'murry would be worried. I thought of him, waiting for me, anxious, when I didn't appear on time, and the next thing I knew, I had!"

This doesn't exactly clear up how the time travel works, although it is consistent with how Lessa discovered everything. It also suggests that there is some physical tell that is apparent to anyone who knows what to look for (although it's also been suggested in the comments in the last book that this information may be communicated by dragon somehow) when it comes to timing it.

Also, the information is restricted to bronzes and queens only?

_[That's a cocowhat for you.]_

I can see the Weyrlingmaster not mentioning it, because plenty of young people would use that power in all sorts of dangerous ways, like shaving things too closely and meeting themselves (although Lessa technically saw herself when she did the warp, but perhaps there's a bit where if you get too close to yourself, your existence collapses as the timeline writes you out to preserve itself from the paradox. Best to hope that you're not someone critical to the function of history, then.

Since K'lon is, and with the hanging threat of one mistake being fatal for him, Leri forbids K'lon from continuing to time it, using Holth's power as a queen to ensure compliance, and also forbids him from revealing what he has learned about time travel, while also trying to reassure him that he will be scheduled in to see A'murry on a regular basis.

That said, since this information is clearly regulated, there has to be a method for containing the occasional discovery, but also there really need to be rules about the responsible use of time travel. Anyone who discovers the secret will use it, and if they are careful about not exhibiting obvious signs of timing it, it won't be as easy to detect them, meaning they could cause great disasters on the timeline. Maybe a dragonrider-specific Teaching Song that's cryptic enough not to give away the secret, but that of one should discover what gives, that will provide an immediate set of rules and behaviors to observe so as to minimize the potential damage?

As it turns out, the obvious signs of timing it in this case is bleached hair and an obvious tan from the additional sun. Back in Dragonquest, I believe that this was also the sign of being able to tell apart which Brown Rider Rapist was from the current timeline and which one was from the past at Southern. Maybe N'ton saw the same things with Jaxom. Considering all of the characters are generally from the cooler north, the presence of an unexpected tan would be a likely giveaway.

The next active element starts, right after Moreta is amused that her dragon is as indifferent to Sh'gall as she is, when Leri returns from Fall to send Moreta out on Holth to fix a queen dragon's wing that's been hurt by Thread. (The rider's leg is also injured, but Leri assures us that Falga will be fine.) Cruising in, Moreta notices the damage is more extensive than relayed and calls on the associated dragons to hold the thrashing queen still so that the repairs can take place. Which includes the two Healers that have finished with Falga and want to help.

And so, once again, we have Moreta fixing a wing - there's a small nod to the fact that this has happened before in this story, and this fixing moves at an accelerated narrative pace, with the Healers alternating between looking on in awe at how reconstruction works and helping out with the stitching and other needs. As soon as the work is done, Holth is summoning Moreta back to Fort Hold on extreme urgency.

We don't find out why until we get back to there, but if there's a draconic equivalent to "Honey. My water just broke," then this is it. Orlith really needs to get to the Hatching Ground. And fade out, end of chapter. We get no insight into the process of how dragons actually lay eggs and what the associated emotions and other feelings and sensations are. Considering how much we've seen and read about the process of sex, and we've seen what happens when the eggs hatch and are ready for Impression, surely by now we could get the other part of the process.

We won't, of course, because birth is one of those processes that makes all the people who are tuned in for the sexytimes leave, and because birth is generally a messy, smelly, and dirty process, even with hospitals and other things.

A little worldbuilding, it's all I ask.

_[There's a little bit of it in the Todd books, but there's still not much to say about dragon clutching that we can say with authority and canon. Presumably, it's like what happens with egg-laying reptiles, I guess. But that might have been research to have to figure out how it worked, and there's a significant aversion to research that seems to be happening on a lot of subjects.]_


	13. Herd Immunity

Last chapter, vaccination! And recovery. And disturbing revelations about the totality of the destruction wrought. But also the fixing of things that are broken and the promise of new life. A carefully managed mood roller-coaster for the characters and the readers.

**Moreta, Dragonlady of Pern: Chapter XII: Content Notes: Misogyny, dereliction of Healer duties, possible sexual or physical abuse**

(3.18.43)

The chapter opens in Fort Hold, with Masterharper Tirone, Masterhealer Capiam, and Lord Tolocamp discussing the recently-arrived news that Orlith clutched twenty-five eggs at the end of the last chapter.

> "Twenty-five eggs is not a generous clutch," Lord Tolocamp said in exaggeratedly mournful voice.  
>  Capiam wondered if the Lord Holder's dose of vaccine had held some curious contaminant. The man's whole personality had altered. The charitable would say that he grieved for his wife and for daughters, but Capiam knew that Tolocamp had consoled himself rather quickly by taking a new wife, so his sorrow was suspect. Tolocamp had also made his losses the excuse for a variety of shortcomings, short temper, and dithering.

I'm not sure why Capiam thinks there's been a change. The description here seems to be accurate for the pre-illness Tolocamp that was trying to get one of his daughters to Alessan and always looking out after his own interests, so much so as to violate a quarantine order and leave his family behind to potentially die. What may have changed is the openness with which Tolocamp operates, using his grief as cover to let his actual personality out. For those people that had poor opinions of Tolocamp, this reinforces their opinions. For those that didn't, they'll be patient enough over some period of grief, but then they'll start realizing that the true colors have come out, too.

The discussion continues about the health of the Weyrs and some attempts at assigning blame for the swiftness of the spread of the plague, which Tirone cuts off with a very pointed demand to get back to the original discussion put on hold by the news of the clutch. If there were any lingering doubts about what the narrative wants us to think about Tolocamp, they're going to be soundly put to rest here.

> "Healers are not immune to the viral influence and they cannot work without medicines." Capiam leaned urgently across the table to Tolocamp, who drew back, another habit that irritated the Healer. "You have a great storeroom of medicinal supplies-"  
>  "Garnered and prepared by my lost Lady-" Capiam ruthlessly suppressed his irritation. "Lord Tolocamp, we **need** those supplies-"  
>  A man look narrowed Tolocamp's eyes. "For Ruatha, eh?"  
>  "Other Holds besides Ruatha have needs!" Capiam spoke quickly to allay Tolocamp's suspicions.  
>  "Supplies are the responsibility of the individual holder. Not mine. I cannot further deplete resources that might be needed by my own people."  
>  "If the Weyrs, stricken as they are, can extend **their** responsibilities in the magnificent way they have, beyond the areas beholden to them, then how can you refuse?"  
>  "Very easily," Tolocamp pushed his lips out. "By saying no. No one may pass the perimeter into the Hold from any outlying area. If they don't have the plague, they have other, equally infectious, diseases. I shall not risk more of my people. I shall make no further contributions from my stores."

Well, maybe there's one other explanation here. Tolocamp has survived a deadly outbreak that claimed the lives of many around him and many supposedly close to him. It may have also presented him with a rather stark picture of his own mortality and the reality that nobody gets out of life alive. That kind of mental scare probably produces some form of post-traumatic stress and, apparently, paranoia about disease vectors and infections. Someone irrationally concerned about these things might behave in this quarantine-and-hoard manner, thinking the only way to be safe is to be prepared against everything that could arrive and to prevent as many possible infection vectors as possible - what would be sensible precautions on the early stages of the pandemic, but is now the opposite behavior of what's needed to transport and manufacture vaccine and treatment so that the pandemic is truly contained and vaccinated against. As people who have worked in public health know, though, working around and through bottlenecks, warlords, or other impediments like this can mean the difference between success and failure.

Unlike Terra, however, Pernese Craftmasters have extra leverage they can use, including one element that will surely trip the paranoia alarms.

> "Then I withdraw my healers from your Hold," Capiam said. He rose quickly.  
>  "But-but-you can't **do** that!"  
>  "Indeed he can! **We** can," Tirone replied. He got to his feet and came round the table to stand by Capiam. "Craftsmen are under the jurisdiction of their Hall. You'd forgotten that, hadn't you?"  
>  Capiam swung out of the room, so angry at Tolocamp's pettiness that bile rose sourly in his throat. Tirone was only a step behind him.  
>  "I'll call them out! Then I'll come join you in the camp."  
>  "I didn't think it would come to this!" Capiam seized Tirone by the shoulder in an effort to express his appreciation of the Harper's swift reinforcement.  
>  "Tolocamp has presumed once too often on the generosity of the Halls!" Tirone's usually smooth, persuasive voice had a hard edge. "I hope this example reminds others of our prerogatives."

This mostly serves to remind me of how odd the justice systems are on Pern. Dragonriders answer only to themselves, and usually with martial combat, Crafters answer only, apparently, to those of higher rank than themselves, making Master Crafters basically gods into themselves, only answerable to the Emperor of the gods, the singular Mastercrafter, and everyone else answers to the Lords Holder, who answer to their own Conclaves, I guess. I'm surprised there aren't more incidents of cross-class violence, like the fracas Menolly and Piemur were involved in during Dragonsinger, that have to be sorted out in some manner to find responsibility.

As it is, the withdrawal of the Crafts is the nuclear option for forcing compliance with their wishes. What remains is to see whether Tolocamp calls Capiam and Tirone on the issue, considering a Hold could theoretically do without both Harper and Healer without serious harm.

Or, it would be that particular scenario, were it not for interference from an unlikely position.

> The speaker emerged from the shadow of a doorway. She was one of the three remaining Fort daughters, a big-boned girl with large brown eyes well-spaced in an intelligent but plain face. Her thick black hair was pulled severely back from her face.  
>  "I have the storeroom keys." She held them up.  
>  "How did you?..." Tirone was uncharacteristically at a loss for words.  
>  "Lord Tolocamp made plain his position when he received the request for medicines. I helped harvest and preserve them."  
>  "Lady?..." Capiam could not recall her name.  
>  "Nerilka." She supplied it quickly with the faint smile of someone who does not expect to be remembered. "I have the right to offer you the products of my own labor." She gave Tirone an intense, challenging stare. Then she returned her direct gaze to Capiam. "There is just one condition."  
>  "If it is within my giving." Capiam would give a lot for medicines.  
>  "That I may leave this Hold in your company and work with the sick in that horrid camp. I've been vaccinated." A wry smile lifted one side of her mouth. " **Lord** Tolocamp was expansive that day. Be that as it may, I will not stay in a Hold to be abused by a girl younger than myself. Tolocamp permitted her and her family to enter this hallowed Hold from the fire-heights yet he leaves healers and harpers to die out there!"  
>  **And he left my mother and sisters to die at Ruatha.** Her unspoken words were palpable in the brief silence.

We saw Nerilka a little bit in earlier chapters, here and there, doing things and being a background character. If I didn't know the next book would be called Nerilka's Story, at this point, I might suspect that she's moved into Hero of Another Story territory, given how much characterization she now has.

That said, the description we get of her when she is revealed from the doorway, and this entire exchange, makes me facepalm SO HARD. She's bigger and plain with a functional but not pretty hairstyle. But she looks intelligent, and her big eyes are evenly spaced. So she's not a looker, but she isn't ugly, and because of that (and that she's one of eleven daughters), she apparently smiles and gives her name like she expects nobody to remember her. And yet, she apparently has some iron in her will and clearly enough intelligence and guile to seize this opportunity to get out from a bad situation. On this world, though, nobody probably has remembered her because she's not pretty, even though she's probably the best marriage prospect of them all, even before the plague. She and before-Harper Menolly would probably have a lot to talk about in their lives, suffering from active abuse from family and passive abuse from the society around them.

We also note that the unflattering description of Tolocamp's new wife and daughters puts on a creepy old man vibe, like this was someone he'd had his eye on for some time now and jumped at the opportunity to make official under the cover of mourning his dead wife and daughters. The narrative is pretty clearly telling us what we should be thinking of Lord Tolocamp. (The PTSD-paranoia angle remains a valid one, but with No Therapists On Pern, there's no way we'll know how much this behavior is Tolocamp's natural state and how much is brought on by the trauma.)

Finally returning to the action, Nerilka takes Capiam to the storehouse, where there are three drudges recruited to assist with the movement of medicine. What follows is a masterwork of manipulation, selective truths, and far more compassion shown to the household staff than seen in any book to this point.

> "You are prompt, I see," Nerilka said, nodding approval to them. "Father appreciates promptness," she said to Capiam as she was separating the keys.  
>  [...Doors unlocked, Capiam is able to appreciate the magnitude of the storehouses that Tolocamp is hiding...]  
>  He had the impression of staggering resources and doubly condemned Tolocamp's parsimony.  
>  "Behold, Master Capiam, the produce of my labors since I was old enough to snip leaf and blossom and dig root and bulb." Nerilka's sarcastic voice was intended for his ears only. "I won't say I have filled every shelf, but my sisters who have predeceased me would not deny me their portions. Would that all these hoarded supplies were usable, but even herbs and roots lose their potency in time. Waste, that's the bulk of what you see, fattening tunnel snakes. Carry-yokes are in the corner there, Sim. You and the others, take up the bales." She spoke in a pleasant authoritative time, gesturing to the drudges. "Master Capiam, if you do not mind-that's the fellis juice." She pointed to a withy-covered demijohn. "I'll take this." She lifted a bulky container by its girth strap. In her other hand, she swung a pack over one shoulder. "I mixed fresh tussilago last night, Master Capiam. That's right, Sim. On your way now. We'll use the kitchen exit. Lord Tolocamp has been complaining again about the wear on the main hall carpets. It's as well to comply with his instructions even if it does mean extra lengths for the rest of us." She covered the glowbaskets.  
>  She set down the demijohn to lock the storeroom, ignoring Capiam's expression, for it was apparent to him that she had gone to some pains to organize the unauthorized distribution.

Nerilka's Genre Savvy extends beyond this point, as she is dressed as a drudge herself, adopts the appropriate walk and demeanor, and convincingly argues that she won't be missed, points out her set of keys is an extra set that her stepmother doesn't know about, that she has useful skills he needs, and that she can sneak back in at any time if needed. "Don't look surprised. The drudges do it all the time. Why shouldn't I?"

Sandwiched in the middle, though, is yet another reason why Pern is a screwed-up place.

> The docility of the Fort daughters had been the source of ribaldry at the Halls whenever Lady Pendra had invited unmarried men of rank to the Hold. Nerilka, Capiam was chagrined to remember, was one of the oldest of the eleven daughters, though she had two full elder brothers, Campen and Mostar, and four younger. Lady Pendra had been constantly pregnant, another source of indicate comment among the apprentice healers. It had never occurred to Capiam - and certainly not to his shameless juniors - that the Fort Horde had any wits or opinions of their own. In Nerilka, rebellion was full blown.

This deserves a Whatfruit for sheer audacity.

_[And so, there was one.]_

Beyond that, I salute Lady Pendra's iron constitution! That many live children with no complications for her or the kids! Also, apparently, the secrets of dragon abortion never got to her. Still, that is an impressive feat of childbirth, one not usually matched in these Terran times, and made even more impressive with the continued suggestion that the technology level for the planet is still somewhere around the city-states, perhaps with a better understanding of some elements. Since, historically, childbirth is one of those things that tends to kill women, and Fax in Dragonflight was said to basically be trying to keep women pregnant until they were dead, with the assumption that he was frequently changing women because of this.

Getting back to my original point, though, Capiam exemplifies the attitude that most men take toward women on this planet (and, regrettably, a lot of men on our planet take, too), not seeing their women as anything other than a body with no head inside, and not making discreet inquiries of Lady Pendra about whether these children that she is constantly pregnant with are wanted children. You know, since abusers like to try and tie their victims to them, and children and pregnancy are one of the ways to bodily restrict a woman. And this "new attitude" of Tolocamp's could very well be his actual personality showing through. With the way Nerilka instructed the drudges, it seemed pretty clear that the implications of doing something to upset Tolocamp were going to be dire. It's quite possible this docility so roundly made fun of was the best survival mechanism available. Seemed to work out pretty well for Menolly, and for Lessa before her, and kind of, ish, for Brekke, too.

I'm really hoping, though, that Nerilka's Story is not a retread of any of these stories, nor of Piemur or Jaxom. A new concept is definitely needed in characterization.

Plot-wise, Capiam makes it to the boundaries of the quarantine camp without incident and with all the medical supplies intact. Nerilka slips by the guards without any worry, even as they push Capiam away, ending his brief flirtation with the idea of disappearing from the Hall and going into the camps unnoticed as well. It appears such things are only possible by mythic rulers of Terra and women characters generally.

After seeing Nerilka off, the scene changes back to Moreta and Leri, discussing why the wounded but patched queen from the last chapter isn't healing properly, with Leri sending Moreta out on Holth back to High Reaches to extract the necessary ichor from another dragon to spread it on the injured wing. The rider of the donor, Diona, one of the Weyrwomen, is too afraid of hurting her dragon to manage it (along with several other narrative cues, like not having a glowbasket ready to light the way, to indicate that she's supposed to be a ditz / delicate flower), and Moreta discovers that the injured queen is badly dehydrated, interfering with the healing process, when everyone interpreted the feverish cries of the rider to be the rider demanding water. Moreta is pretty ticked off at this point about the inabilities of others.

Furthermore, the queen is bleeding out of an unnoticed to this point laceration. Which riles Moreta at herself for not doing a more thorough check on her previous visit and provides some reality check about how everyone on the planet is dealing with increased stresses and are functioning in roles they would not normally be engaging in. It's a tragedy of errors in process, and so again, Moreta recruits the Healer for surgery as her assistant.

Useful information gleaned as Moreta directs Pressen, her unlikely assistant (again) - Pernese dragons have multiple hearts, and bleed green, instead of red. So ichor, in this case, is some sort of blood product, if not blood itself. Also, one can transfuse this ichor by drawing it from a point on the wing where veins meet bone, and then pouring it on the affected places, which will create the draconic equivalent of clots to assist healing.

After suggesting that Pressen should consider studying to be a Weyr Healer, noting the arrival of buckets of water and the increased response and vitality from the injured queen dragon after drinking, and leaving instructions with the Weyrlingmaster about looking after the injured queen, Moreta returns on Holth to Fort Weyr and the chapter ends.


	14. Time Marches On

The last chapter involved sneaking supplies out where they would be useful, with Capiam unable to do much more than gawk at how one of Tolocamp's daughters could pull off this kind of ruse. Moreta also went back to check on a patient and discovered (and fixed) complications in their healing, giving us some insight into the nature of the dragons.

**Moreta, Dragonlady of Pern: Chapter XIII: Content Notes: Grief, loss, unintentional triggering, dragon-influence**

The beginning of this chapter has Alessan working fields with a plow and the remaining runnerbeasts he has, the prize racers that he had been breeding in defiance of his father's wishes. It's a bleak set of responsibilities for him and the Hold, as again, time marches on.

> The land had to be tilled, crops sown, the tithe offered, the Hold fed no matter how the Lord Holder managed to accomplish those responsibilities. He came to the edge of the field and wrestled the team into the wide arc, turning back on the furrows. They were uneven but the earth had been turned.  
>  [...There's a Harper in the distance...]  
>  Alessan had drummed for heavy plowbeasts and been told that no one had any to offer. Neither threats of withholding nor doubling the marks brought better results.

So nobody wants to give or sell anything to Ruatha to help them get their Weyr tithes or the people in the Hold fed. I would think their associated Weyr would have something to say about that. Assuming there are enough healthy and immunized riders and dragons to go out and intimidate the lesser folk into sharing. Even if it were entirely true that there are no runnerbeasts to be shared. Especially since it's Sh'gall in charge at Fort - he would flip out entirely at any chance that a Hold wouldn't be able to make the tithe.

Unfortunately, Alessan seems to believe that he'll have to go it alone against other Holders that will be paranoid their great stocks will just die from the plague that affected the runners before it harmed the humans. Tuero, the Harper, convinces Alessan to send him instead, and while he doesn't return with lots of beasts, he does come back with confirmation that everyone's afraid of plague reoccurrence. Which apparently means, according to Tuero, Alessan could trade runner serum for runners, should it be the case that immunity can be transferred in the same way. Because Alessan has an entire stock of those that survived the plague. Alessan says "Why didn't I think of that?" and plans immediately to make his Hold prosperous enough to fulfill their duties. He needs an expert opinion, and since the Hold that would normally have that is asleep, Alessan says to consult Moreta, indicating that he paid attention to her backstory instead of treating her as a disposable object, like other Lord Holders. So he and Moreta have a face to face meeting, instead of message by drum. Orlith is brooding, and there's a joke about how nobody would steal a queen egg before Alessan arrives and he asks about runner inoculation. Moreta says it should have been obvious that it was possible and is incensed that it hasn't happened yet, giving Alessan free rein of the storerooms to collect whatever he needs.

Then Alessan does something stupid, although he probably thought it was noble or an obligation.

> "I did not come," he said with a wry smile, "with an expectation of bounty. I can, however, return your gown." He took out the carefully folded gold and brown dress and presented it to her with a courteous bow.  
>  She managed to take it from him but her hands trembled. She thought of the racing, the dancing, her joy in a Gather as one should be, her delight in the perfection of that Gather evening as she and Oklina had made their way to the dancing square for an evening she would never forget. The pent-up frustrations, angers, suppressed griefs, the mandatory absences from Orlith that she thought of as betrayals of Impression, the whole accumulation burst the barrier of self-control and she buried her face in the dress, weeping uncontrollably.

Because that's what Moreta needed at this very moment - a reminder of the event that set off all of the pain and suffering that has been the contents of this book. Way to go, Alessan. Perhaps some time after this has passed, you can return the dress, but now it's just going to be a trigger.

> As Orlith crooned supportively, Moreta was taken into Alessan's embrace. The touch of his arms, fierce in their hold, the mixed odors of human and animal sweat, of damp earth, combined to free her tears. Abruptly she felt the heave and swell of his body as his grief found expression at last. Together they comforted and were comforted by each other's release.

Yep. Catharsis is a lot like that, one big ball of emotion unbound and rushing out until it's done. Having a supportive friend or partner there can really help with making sure it all gets out instead of being bottled back up as soon as it looks like someone else is watching. If this were everything that happened here, and both of them went back to business, it would be a lovely scene and very appropriate. 

Instead, we get this.

> His hands tightened and he pulled her toward him again, bending his head to one side so that she could evade him if she chose. Moreta tilted her head and accepted the kiss, thinking to put the seal of comfort to their shared sorrow with that age-old benison. Neither expected their emotions to flare to passion - Moreta because she had stopped thinking of relationships outside the Weyr, Alessan because he had thought himself spent from his losses at Ruatha.  
>  Orlith crooned serenely, almost unheard by Moreta, who was caught up by the surge of emotion, the flow of sensuality so remarkably aroused by Alessan's touch, the hard strength of his thighs against hers, the sensation of being **vital** again. Not even her girlhood love of Talpan had waked such an uninhibited response, and she clung to Alessan, willing the moment to endure.  
>  Slowly, reluctantly, Alessan raised his mouth from hers, looking down at her with incredulous intensity. Then he, too, became aware of the dragon's crooning and looked, startled, in the queen's direction.  
>  "She doesn't object!" That amazed him further, and he was sensible of the risk he had taken.  
>  "If she did, you'd know about it." Moreta laughed. His expression of dismay swiftly altering to delight was marvelous. Joy welled up from a long-untapped source in her body.

I call shenanigans! Or at least that Orlith is actively putting influence on both of them to get together, whether because she thinks Moreta needs sex to take her mind off her grief or because Orlith is a queen on her eggs and this wants to make sure everyone around her is happy, too, or some other reason. The emotional swing there is pretty intense, and I think it's more believable if we take Orlith's behavior to be the draconic equivalent of "Kiss the Girl". Plus, that way it makes sense for Alessan, who has been about proper behavior for most of this book, to suddenly realize after the fact that he risked Orlith's displeasure.

_[The comments point out that it's also possible that both of them, having just had a lot of grief and concerns and catharsis, have their bodies and minds turn to sex as a possibility naturally, because humans are interesting in that way. I'm still pretty sure that Orlith has a hand in whatever's going on, but not as much as I might have earlier.]_

Nothing happens past the kiss, though, as the return of Tuero with supplies gets Alessan and Moreta to both separate and talk about the runnerbeasts as if it were the only conversation they had.

Points to Alessan for giving Moreta an out on his intended behavior, although some vocalization would be better. With potential dragon influence, though, the rest of that sequence of behavior has to stand as possibly him, possibly not him.

Alessan heads back, leaving Moreta, possibly still under Orlith's influence, to sink down to the couch and wonder how much of that conversation Holth and Leri heard. I'm sure it will be "all of it" in a suitably gossip way. And that's our chapter.


	15. Still Contagious

Last chapter, Alessan tilled fields until he had a brilliant idea to see Moreta and ask if the runners could be vaccinated against the plague. He returned Moreta's dress, triggering her, and was rewarded for it with a kiss and inflamed passion, which I'm still giving Orlith some hand in. 

**Moreta, Dragonlady of Pern: Chapter XIV, Part One: Content Notes: Casual Homophobia**

(3.20.43)

We start the next chapter in the Healer Hall, with Capiam explaining to Tirone that illnesses do not just vanish and that no new cases does not mean no _more_ cases.

> "I did. I'll be happier when the lapse is four days long. But that only means that this wave of the viral influence is passing. The 'flu' - as the Ancients nicknamed it - can recur. It's the **next** wave that worries me dreadfully."

And there we have it. If we hadn't guessed by now, now we finally know what the mysterious virus is that has laid low so many on the planet. The misdirection to this point relies on a pronunciation distinction in the English language that produces a much bigger distinction in text.

[This explanation section will require a browser or reader that can serve the Unicode characters for the International Pronunciation Alphabet. Content courtesy Wiktionary.]

[/ˈɪn.flu.əns/](https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/File:en-us-influence.ogg) = "influence" = [Def. 2] An action exerted by a person or thing with such power on another to cause change.

[/ˌɪn.flu.ˈen.zə/](https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/File:En-us-influenza.ogg) = "influenza" = (pathology) An acute contagious disease of the upper airways and lungs, caused by a virus, which rapidly spreads around the world in seasonal epidemics. 

The second is what is referred to by "the flu" as a nickname. The pronunciations are similar enough, though, that if the final syllable isn't stressed hard enough, it's quite easy to think someone said "influence" when they meant "influenza". (Wiktionary also says that influenza is Italian for "influence", further correlating the two words.) This is decades before Jo Rowling would pull a similar verbal flimflam so as to hide the non Latin-aware that Remus J. Lupin ("Wolf-raised Roman J. Wolf") is afraid of the moon.

> They saw a silvery-white orb hanging in the air in front of Lupin, who said **"Riddikulus"** almost lazily.

So yes, it's the flu, which does weaken the immune system and make secondary infections more likely, and which has had several varieties that do more than enough damage on their own as well as opening the door for others. That there have been lots of Passes since anyone had to deal with flu wouldn't remove the defenses the human species has against it, I would think, but perhaps it's the other disease that was the lethal one, born of the environment that is Pern and otherwise able to be fought off by the inhabitants. Or something mutated horribly in the intervening time that whatever the Ancients did, it doesn't work anymore. In any case, as us poor Terrans know, flu is one of those illnesses where we can guess and try to keep it away, but we don't always guess right.

Fortine articulates the problem of the mutating flu while Tirone is having trouble wrapping his head around it, and Capiam points out that the Records really only have one solution to the problem of infectious diseases - mass vaccination. Tirone is incredulous, but Capiam is persuasive, and believes that he can achieve mass vaccination because the social structure of Pern allows for mass tracking, so nobody gets missed in the vaccination sweeps. But it requires a lot of serum, and dragonriders to distribute, so as to basically isolate the flu and prevent it from spreading while the last sufferers use their supercharged immune systems to get rid of the remaining infections.

_[This problem continues - flu shots are still best guesses, but it gets even more fun when you're in a situation where a virus is entirely new and it needs to be sequenced, vaccines trialed, drugs manufactured, and all the while you have people suffering from respiratory failure because SARS-CoV-2 provokes immune responses that fill the lungs with junk material, in addition to the possibility of other infections riding along with it that can be deadly or problematic. While 21st c. Terra has the better medicine, we lack the time-travel squad to help us minimize or defeat casualties by giving us cures in the past before we develop them. This is scary times for everyone, because while people react similarly to such a thing as this virus, everyone is unique, so there's no telling whether the reaction will be fine, but sick, or complications and death. The only way to win the game is not to play, at least not until you have the cheat codes installed.]_

In the middle of this, Tirone tells us that the story of the sea animal is a lie, and he's collected the reports to prove it. The logs of the ship indicate position and storm and the conclusion is that the sailors there landed on Southern, spent three days there eating the fruits and produce there, then returning. For Tirone, the obvious conclusion is that the plague was picked up from Southern. Which is possible, considering that it hasn't been explored or inhabited since the disaster that sent the Ancients running.

With everyone convinced the humans need vaccinations and the runners, too, Tirone suggests Capiam consult Moreta and then put the problem of mass vaccination to the new Beastmaster, Besell, while he goes off to convince Tolocamp that vaccinations are good ideas and he should go along with it, believing that the lack of Harpers and Healers at Fort will have pushed Tolocamp to reconsider his ideas.

Shifting over to Ruatha, Alessan's mind is on the process of getting usable serum from the runners, but he is willingly interrupted by his sister's arrival on a blue dragon. Who then takes a curious interest in Oklina.

> "Arith! Behave yourself! That's Lady Oklina!" M'barak called. The blue dragon had turned his head round toward brother and sister, and was now wiffling closer and closer to Oklina, his eyes whirling. By no means afraid of such attention, Oklina didn't know what to do and clung to Alessan.  
>  At his rider's reprimand, Arith made a tiny little nose, a disappointed snort, and turned his head away while M'barak apologized profusely.  
>  [...Dragon and rider take their leave...]  
>  "Blue dragons are not usually fascinated by the opposite sex," the harper remarked dryly to Alessan.  
>  [...Alessan doesn't understand any implications...]  
>  Tuero's grin broadened. "As I recall it, Ruatha has quite a few bloodties with dragonriders."  
>  Alessan stared from Oklina to the dragon already airborne, and remembered K'lon's remark the day he had brought the vaccine to Ruatha Hold. "It couldn't be!"

The earlier comment is K'lon saying that the vaccination Oklina received was probably from his own blood, with the implication that the blue dragon can sense that blood in Oklina and is thus interested in the K'lon part of her, since blue dragons aren't normally interested in women. The way the sequence works out, it seems like Tuero thinks of it as a joke that a blue dragon would be interested in the gay blood in the straight woman. Not exactly enlightened ideas.

Of course, there's another possibility that nobody is considering - Oklina might actually just be interested in women. The star-struck girl of the Gather might have been more interested in Moreta, like her brother, than in the suitors and dancers in the floor. Not that we can expect a sympathetic treatment, were it the case, despite the not always mentioned part where partnered dragonriders that aren't partnered with a gold are two men together. This might be the first book where we've seen the love and support that dragonriders give each other when they're committed. So it shouldn't be a big deal if Oklina is interested in women more than men.

Unless, of course, you're in a society that considers women to be little more than bargaining chips in making alliances and possibly expensive dowries to be paid out. One that couldn't conceive of a daughter in rebellion, or one that wants to be a musician, or anything else other than a wife.

_[It will take us until the Todd books before we get an actual on-the-page lesbian and her girlfriend, and a lot of the way she gets treated will be less than stellar. Even thought one would expect to see women interested in women at some point in some of these books, even if it played completely into all the bad tropes about lesbians. But no, we don't get to see them, not on page, even though we're in a world filled with gay and bi men.]_

Before this line of inquiry goes any further, it's time to test some runner vaccination, and there's a disabled runner that's been volunteered for the process. If it survives the night, and the runner appears to not be suffering ill effects, the vaccine is considered a working one. Alessan sleeps, the runner is still there, and so it's time for mass vaccinations for runners and for Alessan to contemplate whether or not Moreta was just being nice with the kiss (he concludes she wasn't, and that Orlith was on board with them going much farther), and whether it would be possible for him and her to have a relationship (his responsibility to get married and produce lots of kids would interfere, although they might have a nice discreet affair). He regrets the loss of Runel and his eidetic memory of bloodlines, and of the written records that had been started about which animals had been killed by the illness.

Unexpected news greets him on arriving at the quarantined area - a lot of pregnant mares are here, so perhaps the line won't die out at all, and both Dag and Fergal have survived as well, so Ruatha's fortunes look a lot better for the future. Which is all we get before a scene change. 

Have I mentioned that this is a marathon chapter? We're about a fourth of the way in right now, with this change to Capiam meeting Moreta. 

His question is the same that Alessan had just asked, and it ticks Moreta off again to hear that nobody seems to have thought of the runners at all. She tells Capiam that she answered Alessan earlier affirmatively, and asks what he's doing here. Capiam says he's worried about another epidemic coming from the animals - the plague is "zoonotic" and "recrudescent" according to the terms in his records. Moreta understands the implications and is properly horrified at them. As she works through them, she realizes the reason Capiam is here to see her - to use the dragonriders as a worldwide distribution network for vaccine so that everyone can get their supplies at the same time. Capiam unfolds his plans:

> "Which I will confirm as soon as you can also assure me that the Weyrs can assist us in delivering the vaccines. One of my journeymen is a wizard at figuring out what he calls time-and-motion processes. If we could rely on a minimum of six riders from each Weyr to cover their traditional regions, in a scheduled roster of stops to the various holds, halls, and Weyrs, that would be sufficient."  
>  Moreta was doing some calculations of her own. "Not unless the riders -" she caught herself and gulped in astonishment. In Capiam's broadening grin she had an unexpected answer.  
>  "I've been doing rather a lot of reading in the Archives, Moreta." Capiam sounded more pleased than apologetic for the shock he had given her.  
>  "How did that bit of information come to be in the Healer Archives?" she demanded, so infuriated that Orlith came fully alert, claws hooking protectively about the queen egg.  
>  "Why shouldn't it be?" Capiam asked with deceptive mildness. "After all, my Craft bed the trait into the dragons. Can they really go from one time to another?" he asked wistfully.  
>  "Yes," she finally replied, as austerely as she could. "But it's not encouraged at all!" She right of K'lon, knew very well how often the blue rider had been at the Healer Hall, and wondered about such convenient Records. On the other hand, Capiam's Craft had been credited with many incredible feats and displays of skill, secrets forgotten by disuse. She chided herself for doubting the integrity of Master Capiam, especially at such a critical hour when any strategy that might restore the continent to balance might be condoned. "Capiam, traveling in time produces paradoxes that can be dangerous."  
>  "That's why I suggested the progressive delivery so there is no overlapping." The eagerness in his manner was disarming.

This is extra confusing, because if it's been written down somewhere that dragons do temporal as well as physical hops, it would seem like that would be part of the corpus of common knowledge. Them again, these Records are always conveniently fragmentary, so maybe the things that talk about dragon abilities are stayed away in the section about healing people and dragons in a Weyr. Also, once again, someone understands what the dragons can do and is asking only for a little bit of temporal strain to deliver vaccine, rather than for an immunized rider to go back and deliver serum to prevent the outbreak. Since it still isn't really very clear what the rules are regarding time travel, other than that bad things happen if you get too close to yourself or try to exist in too many places at the same time, these assumptions and statements are never backed by any sort of proof or anecdote. K'lon gets "that's forbidden!" Capiam gets "that's a trade secret!" Surely somewhere there's a cautionary tale of a rider who thought they were going to surprise a lover with two of themselves in bed, but that the proximity to themselves caused a thing that the movie version would need an effects squadron and a bucket of two of blood and viscera to recreate. Or a Weyrling who tried to get cute about always being on time and then trading with his more well-rested self in the middle of a lesson who shaved things too close and erased himself from existence. There are clearly enough curious dragonriders to keep discovering this trick, and riders other than the approved ones can manage it, so the reason of "Because we said so" isn't going to cut it in terms of keeping a lid on the secret. There has to be an example somewhere. Or that all the appropriate attempts have resulted in Stable Time Loops where the original condition had to be restored because the alternative was worse.

I realize this is thinking more about the mechanics than the author may have, but since this is a critical element of the world, and we're in the seventh book at this point, at some point it would seem that time will be devoted somewhere to sketching out a basic understanding. 

Having secured Moreta's assistance, Capiam, Desdra, and Moreta head out on Arith to see whether or not Alessan was successful with animal vaccine. Moreta observes the devastation with a similar eye as K'lon did earlier, seeing it as a place of an apocalypse. Once the dragon settles, though, Alessan relays the great news about having mares and foals, as well as the successful tests of the serum for animals. Capiam fills in Alessan on the importance of animal vaccination in addition to human vaccination, and Alessan is very happy to volunteer his animals to provide serum.

> "Ruatha lost much - of its people, its herds, its honor, and its pride. Any help which Ruatha can now offer may perhaps remove the stain of our enduring" - Alessan indicated the burial mounds - "hospitality."  
>  There was no bitterness in the young Lord Holder's voice but there was no doubt in anyone's mind that the aftermath of his first Gather had burned indelibly into his soul.  
>  "What makes you think that **you** are responsible for that? Or any of this?" One flourish of Capiam's hand indicated the burial mounds, the next, their meeting in the beasthold, and the veterinary preparations being made to one side.

Capiam continues delivering his speech about how nobody is really at fault and that their job is to keep people alive and Alessan should be proud of his willingness to help until an unexpected bronze arrives, with Oklina again appearing to provoke a reaction from Arith. Moreta finally provides a possible explanation - blue dragons are particularly keen on finding good queen candidates, and Orlith's egg may be getting Arith prematurely wound up for that task.

As the Healers and Alessan talk about how best to prepare the runners, Desdra points out one snag in the plan - not enough sterile needlethorns. Moreta offers to get more, even though they're very much out of season, and won't be in season until autumn, because Desdra points out the lack of supply may mean some places don't get their vaccinations. Since the Healers already know the secret, the real trick is to convince B'lerion that the time hop is necessary to make the plan work.

>   
> "B'lerion, I know where we need to go, in both Ista and Nerat. I know when needlethorn is ripe to be harvested. The **ging** tree is always in bloom. I have seen the rainforest resemble a green face with a thousand dark-rimmed eyes-"  
> "Highly poetic, Moreta, but not exactly the guide I'd need."  
> "But it is a **when**. And to get the proper coordinates we've only to check the autumnal position of the Red Star. Alessan would have the charts. It's rising father and farther west. One only has to calculate the autumnal degree." She could see that that argument did much to reassure B'lerion.

So now we're gearing up for something that seemed wild during the Ninth Pass - jumping into the future to harvest a crop that will be used in the past to ensure that future comes to pass. Moreta thinks a crew of six will be enough to make it work - Moreta, Alessan, Capiam, Desdra, B'lerion, and Oklina. At the sensible mention of potential paradox, Moreta says they all just need to avoid Ista at the time they will have already been there.

A couple things to mention before this plan gets underway, which we'll get to in the next post. First, there's the bigger paradox worry than being in two places at the same time - if the future depends on the harvesting of needlethorn to vaccinate the runners, then to stabilize the time line, there has to be a Bad Future where there aren't enough and something happens to the herds. If that's a very Bad Future, where another outbreak causes mass deaths, well, that's a problem. Hopefully that particular future is one where Desdra has miscalculated the available supply and there was barely enough to get it all done in time.

It's also possible that I'm misreading this situation and the planned jump is one into the past, but it certainly seems like everyone plans on harvesting this year's crop early.

Second, if this were a series that just continued forward in time in successive books, then this would be a clever bit of call back to The White Dragon and Wansor and his groundbreaking work. Instead, we have to deal with the knowledge that three Passes before, the great astronomical knowledge had already been put into place. There has to be some form of unenlightened times to get from Sixth to Ninth. If this plague is the catalyst for a great loss of knowledge between then and now, then if this book continues on after the plague, we might start to see the effects of this loss. If it's not this, then there still has to be some great tragedy yet to come to explain the reasons why the future is relearning the past. (Latin Christendom had such events when they were invaded and overrun, and when they spent their time fighting instead of learning from the cultures around them.) So it might have been better to try out on a picture that Moreta had, the same way Lessa used a tapestry to jump back, rather than to have charts and graphs to construct an image to use, which will get the landing party ready at dawn of the day they choose to jump forward to.

Next time, the actual plan gets underway.


	16. Provoking the Paradox

Last time, Capiam developed a plan to mass vaccinate both people and animals so as to prevent the flu from having another outbreak, and went to Moreta to get dragonriders to distribute, since Alessan had a successful test of animal serum. To make this plan work, though, the principal players have to jump into the future to harvest needlethorn so that they have enough to ensure sterility. This is quite dangerous.

**Moreta, Dragonlady of Pern: Chapter XIV, Part Two: Content Notes: Actual, Honest-to-Prime Consent!**

Here's the description we have for the future time hop:

> "Facing northwest, the Red Star is horizon, Belior half full ascending, and the quarter horn of Timor mid-heaven. You will please concentrate on how Ista looks with those **ging** trees in bloom. Think of them as **now** and in Ista, and the heat of autumn and the smell of those rotting rainforests."

Good to know there's names for these moons. Didn't know they had them before this point.

That said, this is a pretty interesting thing. The picture being described has reference points for the big Sky bits, but assumes that the sky surrounding them is either familiar to Moreta or isn't important enough to throw off the attempt, as apparently part of getting a good visualization is in the non-visual sensory aspects as well.

In any case, Moreta firmly holds the picture in her head and Nabeth, B'lerion's dragon, appears over Ista at the appropriate time. To make sure that there's no more possible misinterpretation, Capiam asks whether this is the future, and Moreta gives him an affirmative. After a short lesson from Moreta on how to collect needlethorn, with a warning about fine hairs on the plant that cause inflammation, suggesting that needlethorn is in the same family as stinging nettle, the crew gets to work harvesting. Half collect needles, half use the leaves of the nearby ging to wrap and transport them in. Alessan needs extra help figuring out how to harvest and wrap the needlethorn, and he tries to turn it to an intimate moment with Moreta. Moreta turns out to be very willing, but B'lerion's encounter with the fine hairs previously warned about interrupts the moment, and the two turn back to their work, although Alessan tries to be intimate (and takes some wounds of his own from needlethorn for the trouble) and Moreta curbs his worst excesses, but they do share kisses and caresses, and the "delightful friction of his proximity" excites her.

Then comes B'lerion and Oklina with a request for food, and Capiam and Desdra join in soon afterward. Interestingly enough:

> He [B'lerion] had stripped to the waist, and Oklina had tired her shirt up under her breasts, leaving her midriff bare.  
>  [...food discussion...]  
>  Capiam, too, had stripped off his tunic, which was now detailed over his shoulders. He was very thin, his ribs showing plainly.  
>  "I know it's hot," Moreta began adroitly, "but none of us can return to Ruatha suffering from sunburn."  
>  Capiam exhibited a leaf he was using as a fan. "Or heat prostration." He raised his eyebrows in satisfaction with the filled nets. "We left ours back a bit. I rather thought we should rest, as is the custom on this hot island, during the hottest part of the day."  
>  Everyone agreed that that was a sensible idea.

So there doesn't seem to be any sort of great taboo about showing skin on Pern. Not that there would be for men - as solidly patriarchal as the planet is, there's no reason to believe that shirtless men would invoke any sort of taboo. But bare midriff Oklina doesn't appear to be invoking any reprimand from her brother about staying covered for modesty reasons.

In gathering food, Alessan gets an excuse to go shirtless himself, climbing up trees to collect nuts. In reclaiming his tunic, he runs his hands up the back of Moreta's, who is surprised to find Alessan has quite soft skin and a nice smell.  
Lunch is relaxing, with B'lerion providing the entertainment involving making fun of his disability (he's one-handed, so does that mean he only gets half credit for his work?) and telling "an extravagantly funny take at the expense of Lord Diatis's reputation". Alessan wonders why things are the way they are:

> "He sings a good descant, but B'lerion always seemed to be the epitome of a bronze rider."  
>  "Why, then, is he not your Weyrmate?"  
>  "Orlith chose Kadith."  
>  "Do **you** not have any say in the matter?" Alessan was irritated for her sake. From remarks he had made during their morning's work, she knew that Alessan didn't like Sh'gall and wondered just how much their new relationship would strain Ruatha's dependence in Fort's Weyrleader. She was struggling to find an honest reply to a question she had evaded in her own heart, when Alessan contritely covered her head, his expression pleading with her to forgive his rash remarks. "I'm sorry, Moreta. That is a Weyr matter."  
>  "To answer you in part, B'lerion **is** always like that," she said. "Charming, amusing. But Sh'gall **leads** men well, and he has an instinct about Fall which is predecessor, old L'mal, considered uncanny."

This makes sense in all the right ways. The leader for peace is not the leader for war, although it's still not entirely clear what the Weyrleader needs to be doing during Threadfall. It sounds as though he should be acting as Spotter Supreme to make sure all the wings are at their correct levels and to direct the queens on where to catch what gets through, but it also seems like he's supposed to be leading the charge against Thread. In any case, it seems like the Weyrleader is really there to put on the brave face and lead the dragons to potential injury or death. Which is an important skill for them, but that seems like it could be done as a title like Supreme Dragonrider, without also handing over the political power and the Weyr operations to them, as well. Then again, as noted, boinking dragons is not a good basis for a system of government.

To take naps (or not), the pairings split off again after lunch, which is perfect opportunity for Alessan and Moreta to get a bit of boinking of their own in. But the sequence has two threads to it - Alessan and Moreta, and Oklina and the possibility of a gold dragon.

> Then, taking a deep breath, he pulled Moreta against him and kissed her deeply and sensually, his hand deftly stroking her to arousal. "Come on, Moreta, I'm not chancing another attack by those needlethorns." He led her from the ravine and toward the cliff. "What I'd like to understand is why that blue dragon of M'barak's is sniffing around Oklina. I could understand Nabeth with B'lerion entranced by her, but Arith... would it have anything to do with that queen egg on the Hatching Ground as Tuero suggested?"  
>  "It might, but Fort Weyr would not deplete your bloodline by Searching Oklina, Alessan."  
>  "This will do. Let's just throw down some **ging** fronds," Alessan said, hauling on the nearest at hand. "I won't have you bruised, either. That would be almost as hard to explain as a sunburn or heat prostration." Moreta helped him arrange a bower, all her senses suddenly awake, wishing that Orlith, not Nabeth, were on the Istan ledge. "About Oklina, now, since I've been reliably informed" - Alessan paused to grin at her, his light eyes sparkling vividly with merriment - "that she already has dragonrider blood in her..." Then he turned briefly serious. "If it could be understood that her children would return to Ruatha, I would not stand in Oklina's way if she had the chance to Impress a dragon." He dumped his last handful of frond on the ground with a decisive gesture and pulled Moreta into his arms. "I'm not my father, you know."  
>  "I wouldn't **be** in a rainforest with your father."  
>  "Why not? He was a lusty man. And I intend to prove that I'm a suitable heir for his reputation!"  
>  She was laughing as he laid her down on the sun-dappled frond bed. And he proved himself as lusty - and tender - as any woman could wish a man. For a shining moment at the height of their passion, Moreta forgot everything but Alessan.  
>  The heat of the day did overcome them briefly, and they slumbered in each other's arms until tiny insects sought the moisture of their bodies and made them uncomfortable enough to wake.

...is this the first time in seven books where we have consensual sex between adults without the influences of any dragon or fire lizard, and the narrative doesn't indicate its disapproval? Because it seems like it is. No mating flight, no snark, nothing. Alessan even indicates a desire to not be rough with Moreta. Not coincidentally, this also reads like the most passionate and satisfying sex that's been had in these seven books. Perhaps even here, some of the message of "consent makes your sex hot" is getting through. Narratively, though, the story has gone out of its way to show us that Alessan is kind, empathetic, and genuinely concerned with the welfare of his people and his guests, in contrast to Tolocamp's selfishness. So in addition to the Exceptional Women on display (Moreta for the dragonriders, Nerilka for the Holders, and Desdra for the Healers), we have an Exceptional Man who does things in contrast to the other Lord Holders. I...suppose we could call it an improvement, if we're feeling generous, but the larger pattern still exists of Exceptional People as protagonists and main characters.

The strain of worry about Oklina resurrects some of the questions we asked during Dragonflight - while we know the new queen rider stays and raises the dragon, what happens to the other candidates? The youngest stick around in case they get another shot, but those who will be considered too old to Impress most have a life somewhere. Why don't they go back to their Holds and resume the life left there? (Not that it's a great life at all.) Is there an assumption by Holders that any woman who has been around dragonriders is tainted in some manner? Whether in philosophy about sex, or no longer being able to fetch the virgin bride price (because, presumably, if you stay long enough, you'll be subjected to the wide-band broadcast of dragon mating and won't be able to help yourself), there's something about going off on Search that makes it not possible for a candidate to return home. In a subversive world, and a good headcanon option, those candidates are quietly hustled to sympathetic Crafthalls to learn a trade and become independent women, with the option of remaining with the Crafts or coming back to their Weyrs and taking up the Craft roles the Weyr needs.

Alessan has a point, though. Lords Holder are pretty obsessed with bloodlines and lineages, and the easiest way to avoid a civil war over Ruatha is to make sure the line continues. If both Alessan and Oklina are having kids that would be recognized as part of the Holder class, that's a higher percentage chance of the line surviving and war being averted. So he both wants and doesn't want Oklina to be selected as a candidate.

After their siestas, the group regathers for dinner, where B'lerion and Oklina show off the results of their skills at finding food, including Oklina pointing out that she learned a useful skill about fishing from Dag and that B'lerion used it to catch several. Which is an opportunity for the narrative to give Alessan the same reaction Capiam had to learning how much Nerilka knew:

> "It was B'lerion's idea, you know," Oklina said. "He actually tickled the fish to catch them."  
>  "Did he teach you how?" Alessan asked.  
>  "No," Oklina replied with admirable composure. "Dag did. The same principal [sic] works in our rivers as Ista's."  
>  Moreta could not resist chuckling at Alessan's expression as he sank beside her.  
>  "On more mature reflection, I think she deserves to be in a Weyr," Alessan said in a severe undertone.

Running gag for this book: men constantly surprised that women have brains in their heads instead of fluff. Which is a joke you can make once in a while, but as a universal constant, gets old fast.

While others are ready to go back immediately, B'lerion squashes that idea in favor of the reality that the group will still need to finish the day they started.

> "Sleep" - he pointed his finger sternly at Moreta - "for you have to mend dragons after Fall in another four hours. You can't do that effectively after the day you just put in." He flipped his hand toward the carry-nets lying in the shadows. "You, Alessan, will have to vaccinate and escort those priceless brood mares and foals of yours down from the meadows. I do not see you permitting anyone else to head that expedition. Desdra and Capiam, you will be returning to the pressures of expanding this vaccination program to include runnerbeasts. So we shall finish our meal and then we shall sleep." He allowed the sibilance of the word to emphasize his meaning. "When Belior has risen, Nabeth will rouse us, won't you, my fine fellow?" B'lerion thumped his dragon's neck. "And we'll all be the better for the time spent **here**."

Well, there goes the possibility that B'lerion wouldn't be a good leader in war. When he needs to, B'lerion is apparently very good at managing people and making sure they do what they need to. It certainly sounds like he is great Weyrleader material, but the narrative apparently needed Sh'gall, who has been anything but an effective leader in this crisis time. More drama is not always good drama.

Upon their return, Moreta is greeted with two very anxious queen dragons - they tried to reach her at Ista, but in their own time, and they could not find Moreta. Before that avenue is pursued, though, the preparations for the vaccination have to get underway, and Alessan, having taken an aerial look at Ruatha Hold, dispatches Oklina to find some able bodies and spruce up the place. M'barak returns with the glass bottles and a few extra hands, declaring the need for hurry since there's still Fall in the day that was interrupted. Once unburdened of glass and passengers, Moreta hitches her ride back to Fort, where Leri grills get about where she went and why she was out of contact and how difficult it was to keep both queens under control. Moreta gives Leri a complete rundown of the plan Capiam came with, provoking Leri to declare a need to flay K'lon because Capiam knows about time travel. After reassuring her that it's not necessary to get after K'lon, Moreta reveals the rest of the plan regarding jumping into the future to get the needlethorn and then visiting Weyrs under the guise of looking for queen candidates to recruit riders for the mass vaccination and time travel. Leri is basically incredulous and angry at the risk being taken, but she does see the planning in place.

> Leri gave a little chuckle at Moreta's cunning. "My dear, you've the makings of a superior Weyrwoman. Just shuck that bronze rider and get someone you're happy with. And I do not mean that light-eyed Lord Holder, with his convenient stashes of Benden white. Though mind you, he's a handsome lad."

The call to battle ends the chapter, but it seems like everybody at Fort realizes that the Weyrleader match is a poor one at best and is wondering when Moreta will dump Sh'gall in favor of someone else. If we had any information about what the mating process is like from an experienced Weyrwoman, instead of the only description coming from Lessa, who knew absolutely nothing about it, then we could put to the test some of those claims that suggest the queen rider may have some choice or direction with regard to who gets to mate with her gold.

...then again, queen riders exercising choice in their mates and partners has a pretty poor track record so far. As does queen riders who don't get to exercise choice, at least for the riders themselves.

_[The books see-saw on this. A lot. Mostly, they come down on the idea that the dragon makes choices and the riders are along for the fun of it, but there are enough times where they **don't** that continues to keep the matter undecided in most situations. And, for the most part, what ends up happening is that the rider who is best for both Weyr and Weyrwoman ends up winning the mating flight, making it so we don't really have to get an answer or an explanation as to how much of mating flight stuff is dragon and how much is rider.]_

There's one chapter and an epilogue to go, which means it's time for the competent Moreta to die in a tragic accident to provide manpain to the male characters, Alessan, K'lon, Capiam, and so forth, right? That way, we can get the Ballad that has been sung in the future about her.


	17. Super Subterfuge

Last chapter, Moreta proved that it was possible to travel forward from the known present into the future, removing the last known obstacle for dragonriders to control the timeline presumably anywhere they can reach. Now with sufficient supply of everything needed to accomplish simultaneous vaccination of humans and animals, it's time to recruit dragonriders for the task and put it into action.

**Moreta, Dragonlady of Pern: Chapter XV; Content Notes: Classism, toxic masculinity**

(3.21.43-3.22.43)

Moreta's first stop is Benden, where there is gossip about other Weyrs, but mostly advice and confirmation about which riders are the ones to ask about who has sufficient experience and control with time hopping to be useful to the plan. Ista takes some convincing, although Moreta gets to see the son she had with D'say, M'ray, as she tries to convince him to join up. This gives Moreta a little hope about her bloodline, in that it continues through the other children she has had. Igen is happy to help out, even though the Weyrleader is stuck in a deep depression that people think will be cured by the end of the plague and a good mating flight.

Telgar, however, orders Moreta, M'barak, and Arith grounded well away from the Weyr, as M'tani has quarantined the Weyr from strangers, which includes riders from other Weyrs. Moreta can get no headway with C'ver, the sentry, who mocks her and tells her she's not welcome, period. Incensed at the discourtesy, Moreta vows to never lift a finger to help Telgar and continues on to High Reaches, where she is "twice and twice times twice welcome". B'lerion informs her of having taken Desdra and Oklina to Nerat for more needlethorn, before Moreta is beseeched to check in on Tamianth, the dragon whose major surgery she did when she was here last. Things look good, and it seems that Pressen took Moreta's advice about being a Weyr Healer seriously.

While Falga is examining the plan, Holth relays to Tamianth that Moreta has unfriendly guests.

> "Could that be why Tamianth tells me Holth now informs her that Raylinth and his rider have arrived, in great agitation, at Fort?" When Moreta nodded grimly, she added, "M'tani would have none of it?"  
>  "The watchrider made Arith land on the Rim."  
>  B'lerion cursed with real fervor, all langor gone.  
>  "If I'd been on Orlith, that squatty mildewed brown of C'ver's would-"  
>  "Consider the source," Falga said earnestly. "A mere brown rider! Really, Moreta, save your wrath for something worth the energy to spit at. I don't know what has got into M'tani over the last Turn. Maybe he's battle-weary from fighting Thread for so many years. He's gone sour totally, and it's affecting his whole Weyr. That would be disastrous enough in ordinary times, but this plague has only shown up his deficiencies. Do we have to force a change there? We'll take up the matter later.  
>  [...logistics of who will help Moreta from High Reaches. As we resume, B'lerion is now speaking instead of Falga...]  
>  "Of course, T'grel's not the only rider who's dissatisfied with M'tani's leadership. I told you, didn't I, Falga, that once those Telgar riders had had a taste of **real** leadership, there'd be trouble." He smiled winningly at Moreta. "I actually do defer to Sh'gall's abilities. He may be a dull stick in other matters - oh, no, you can't fool your old friend B'lerion - but he is a bloody fine Leader! Don't waggle your finger at me, Falga."

Pern continues to be a place where, if there weren't any therapists, it would be necessary to invent them. Someone has to have thought of the practice of mental Healing, because this world is pretty crapsack for anyone not a Lord, rider, or Crafter. And, as we keep seeing, there are plenty of people at those levels that need help in coping with disasters or the pressures of their positions. Even if it's always a crude practice, the planet needs counselors, instead of dragonriders sneering at each other and then thinking about staging a coup of leadership when one of theirs has issues. It's not coincidental, I think, that the responses to Sh'gall, Tolocamp, and M'tani freaking out about plague have all been basically the same - anger, disapproval, derision, with the idea that they're just not tough enough to handle it like Real Men(TM). If we can figure out on Terra that [the social construction of Masculinity that relies on men being perennially tough and non-emotional is contributing to men dying earlier and committing acts of violence against themselves and others](http://www.alternet.org/gender/masculinity-killing-men-roots-men-and-trauma), surely on Pern they can follow suit, especially for the men that are pair-bonded with living weapons.

Additionally, based on this exchange, [Come see the violence inherent in the system](http://www.intriguing.com/mp/_scripts/peasant.php). Or, for the visual version, [Dennis, the anarcho-syndicalist peasant](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t2c-X8HiBng).

In any case, we are rather starkly reminded of the strength of the caste system of the dragonriders, despite none of the riders, except perhaps the queen candidates, getting to choose what color of dragon they have. I'm not sure what the official handwave about this is, other than an insistence, true or not, that dragons choose their riders, but it seems like a pretty bad bargain to get "Congratulations! You've just joined the mounted class, the highest of classes, but at a rank that makes you front line fodder and that will give you no real respect in that class!" Then again, considering what happens in the other classes, and to them by dragonriders, maybe it's the best of bad bargains.

Still, if a brown rider isn't worth frustration on Moreta's part, then I wonder what they think of the blues and greens. Oh, wait, I don't have to wonder, I just have to read a little bit further.

> "Good fellow, K'lon; and I don't say that about just any blue rider."

That's B'lerion talking, by the way, so we have an idea about what position the blue riders occupy in the minds of the bronze and gold riders.

When Moreta gets back to Fort, we get the rest of what Telgar thought about the visit. And a thought of what the green riders are, too.

> Orlith was awake on Moreta's return to Fort Weyr because Sh'gall had roused her while looking for Moreta. He was pacing up and down in front of the tier and whirled belligerently at her when she entered.  
>  "M'tani sent a green weyrling," he cried, fuming, "hardly more than a babe, to give our watchrider the most insulting message I gave ever received. He has repudiated any agreement made at the Butte, a meeting at which I was **not** present." Sh'gall shook his fist at Moreta and then in the vague direction of the Butte. "And at which arbitrary decisions were made, which I cannot condone, though I've been forced to comply with them! M'tani has repudiated any arrangement, agreement, accord, understanding, undertaking. He is not to be bothered - bothered, he says - not to be bothered by problems if any other Weyr. If we are so poor that we have to beg and Search from other Weyrs, then we do not deserve to have a clutch at all." Sh'gall ended up swinging his arms about like a drum apprentice.  
>  Moreta had never seen him so furious. She listened to what he had to say but offered no response, hoping he would vent his rage and leave. Having repeated himself at length on his displeasure with her shameless venture for the Weyr that had resulted in such an insufferable message from M'tani, he ranted on through his usual grievances, about his illness, about the puny size of the clutch. Finally Moreta could bear no more.  
>  "There **is** a queen egg, Sh'gall. There have to be enough candidates to give the little queen some choice. I applied to Telgar Weyr as I did to Benden, Igen, Ista, and the High Reaches. No one else thought my appearance or my request importunate. Now leave the Ground. You've upset Orlith sufficiently for one day."  
>  Orlith was visibly upset as Moreta ran across the hot sands to her, but not, Moreta knew very well, by Sh'gall. By Telgar Weyr. She paced in front of her eggs, her eyes wheeling from red to yellow and orange as she recited to her rider a list of the damages she would inflict on bronze Hogarth in such detail that Moreta was torn between laughter and horror. A mating dragon could be savage with the drive of that purpose, but a clutching dragon was usually passive.

Clearly everyone considers the sending of a young green rider to be a most grievous insult. I'm guessing they're the very lowest on the list, which is why Sh'gall is so riled up, aside from all the other reasons that boil down to "shit keeps happening that I don't approve of." Which is at least consistent for him, but calls into question B'lerion's previous statement that Sh'gall can lead people. If he falls apart like this or throws tantrums every time it doesn't go his way, there's no way he's going to be the leader of his own Weyr, much less unofficially in charge of all the Weyrs. There's way too much unconstrained testosterone in these groups...Unless he's in charge because he beats everybody up that crosses him.

Good on Moreta for telling him off, and good on Orlith for demonstrating a knowledge of anatomy and what to do with it. As it turns out, Holth and Leri want in in that action, too. But there's still enough volunteers to make the plan when it's time, so the action skips up to the next day and over to Ruatha.

The day of the plan dawns, with Ruatha's tired centrifuges and bottles upon bottles of already-generated serum stacked carefully. Alessan and his senior staff discuss the plague and its effects, as well as the state of the current herd, before the herders hop off to see if there's going to be a birth tonight, and others head toward bed, the Benden white wine working on them. Alessan has apparently offered Tuero a permanent post at Ruatha as the Hall Harper. I suspect that if Robinton were to trace his line, he would find Tuero in it, because, well, the list of demands is ridiculous:

> "By the first Egg," Alessan protested, "you've already got me to agree to a first-storey apartment on the inside, second tithe of our Crafthalls -"  
>  "When you've got them staffed again -"  
>  "Your choice of a runnerbeast, top marks as a journeyman, and leave, if you wish, to take your mastery when the Pass is over. What more can you ask of an impoverished Lord Holder?"  
>  "All I ask is what is fitting for a man of my accomplishments." Tuero humbly put one hand on his heart.  
>  "So what is this final condition?"  
>  "That you supply me with Benden white." He spoiled the gravity of his pronouncement by hiccuping and gestured urgently for Alessan to fill his cup. He sipped wine to stop the spasms. "Well?"  
>  "Good journeyman Harper Tuero, if I can procure Benden white, you may have your just share of it." He raised his cup solemnly and Tuero touched his to it. "Agreed?"  
>  Tuero hiccuped. "Agreed!" He tried to swallow the next hiccup.

Tuero has both Robinton's avarice for stuff and fondness for Benden white wine, which is still apparently the best stuff on Pern.

With the wine drank, Alessan and the rest head to bed, Alessan wondering in a wine-induced haze whether Desdra is hitting on Oklina, resolving firmly to repaint the Hall, taunting Tuero about never knowing his source of Benden, and receiving news that the mare gave birth to a male foal. (Who we hope survives and can be vaccinated due to the herd immunity.)

There's also a tease of the readers and the drinkers that Rill, one of the women present, looks familiar to everyone. She also ends up being the person that tucks Alessan and Tuero into bed in their drunken stupor. Alessan tenderly, Tuero much less so.

Then it's time to fly the mission. Moreta is glad there's Fall to disguise the real activities of the queen riders today. She's on Hatching Ground duty today, while Leri and others do the hauling. Moreta is concerned about Leri's continued flying, and thinks it would be good for Leri to retire to Ista after this run. As if Moreta could convince her of that.

Mostly, though, it's Moreta at the feeding grounds, looking for good things for Orlith and approving of hunts of wherries now and roundups of stray runners after the plague threat is over, and generally having a good relaxing time, with occasional status updates from Orlith.

Until, of course, something gets in the way. Namely, that M'tani is forbidding his bronze dragons from joining the combined Thread fighting crews. Since part of the plan hinged on vaccinating Telgar's areas while attention was directed at the Fall, using locals to the area, this is a serious monkey wrench in the plan, bringing Benden's Weyrwoman to discuss strategy. Others can cover much of the lost territory, but the Keroon Plains would go unprotected, and that would ruin the plan completely. Unless Moreta finds a dragon and covers it herself, that is. Holth is volunteered for Moreta, and the two hop over to Keroon to pick up the vaccine. Then, it's several runs to various beastholds to deliver the vaccine, timing it such that she reappears to collect a new set every hour, even though the runs themselves take much longer.

_[Telgar Weyr, when under the control of assholes, seems to be the biggest antagonist for every other Weyr, whenever it's being an antagonist to the other Weyrs. It's the Weyr that covers the biggeest amount of ground, and presumably, might field the biggest armada because of that. Which seems to suggest that a lot of people in charge of Telgar think they have the biggest dick, as well. Even though it almost always ends poorly for them in the end.]_

The strain of the runs is becoming apparent in both dragon and rider.

> And each jump Holth made seemed just that much shallower. Twice Moreta asked the dragon if she wanted to rest. Each time Holth replied firmly that she was able to continue.  
>  [...time ticks and Moreta is getting annoyed at how long it's taking...]  
>  All during the last round, she kept the sun at a midafternoon position, feeling the strain of timing it in her bones, in Holth's heaviness. But when she asked Holth if they should stop, the dragon replied that she wished Keroon had a few mountains instead of all these dreadful plains.  
>  [...they deposit the last of the vaccine...]  
>  She watched him go, numbly aware that Holth's body was shaking under her legs. She stroked the old queen's neck.  
>  "Orlith is all right?" She had asked that question frequently, too.  
>  **I am too tired to think that far.**  
>  Moreta looked at the midafternoon sun over Keroon plain and wondered with a terrible lethargy exactly what time it was.  
>  "One last jump, that's all we have to take, Holth."  
>  Wearily the old queen gathered herself to spring. Moreta gratefully began her litany.  
>  "Black, blacker, blackest-"  
>  They went **between**.

Back to a hero's welcome, too a necessary drink, and to the knowledge that you've helped save the world. We're right near the end of the chapter, so there's not much more to be done but wind things down, right?

Right?

...where an I going, and why does this look like a handbasket?


	18. The Inevitable Disaster

Last time, the plan to vaccinate simultaneously went until action, and Moreta was called into the field when Telgar Weyr forbade any Telgar riders from going out at all. Moreta has just finished her timing run with Holth, and has just jumped back to the welcome she richly deserves...

**Moreta, Dragonlady of Pern: Chapter XV and Aftermath: Content Notes: Suicide, Meaningless Deaths**

> "Shouldn't Moreta be back by now, Leri?" The blue rider had been prowling uneasily in the tiers, occasionally barking his shins.

I've got a sinking feeling about this...that is confirmed almost immediately. Considering what B'lerion was harping on about in the future trip, one would think that Moreta and Holth would recognize the need for rest when time-tripping. After all, they can return to the time they left, give or take an hour, and then continue resting while they fight off the symptoms of existing in two places at once. That headache world be coming anyway, because of the needlethorn trip.

> Afterward, K'lon realized that both rider and dragon knew in the same instant. But Orlith's reaction was vocal and spectacular. Her scream, tearing at his taut nerves, brought him round to witness the initial throes of her bereavement. Orlith had been lying at the rear of the Ground, her eggs scattered in the sand before her. Now she reared up on her hind legs, her awkwardly coiled tail all that prevented her from crashing backward as she arched her head back, howling her despair. The sounds she emitted were ghastly ululations in weird dissonances, like throat-cut shrieks. Then, in an incredible feat, Orlith launched herself from that fully extended posture, over her eggs, missing them by a mere handspan. She sprawled, muzzle buried in the sand as all color faded from her golden hide. Then she began to writhe, thrashing her head and tail, oblivious to the fact that she had caught her right wing under her, flailing the air with the left.  
>  [...Leri can't breathe, but K'lon is able to start her again by shaking her violently, after which she collapses in sobs. K'lon demands answers, which are coming from more than one dragon...]  
>  **They were too tired. They ought not to have continued so long. They went between... to nothing,** the composite voice replied in the sad conclusion perceived by all the dragons in the Weyr.

...

_[There's a triple Cocowhat here. Also, an additional reaction that I didn't put in the first time and should have:_

That's... narratively, Moreta and Holth dying in a teleportation accident serves no purpose! The vaccine is delivered, the crisis averted, and they're tired. Job well done, let's go have a drink. Unlike our own narratives, which can be cut short by the most random of events (which is unsettling and disturbing, by the way), the author controls all aspects of this story. There's no reason at all for anyone to have to die, and for this to happen at the very end of this chapter feels just cheap. Did Moreta engage in too much narratively forbidden activity by questioning the choice of Weyrleader in her mind? Did she trip the narrative's wrath by having sex with Alessan? By having fun at a Gather, or her interest in racing? Because she thought about Leri retiring before going out on the emergency duty? There's no reason for this kind of thing to have happened _at all_. 

Second, again, how irresponsible are the engineers of the dragons for not putting in some form of failsafe? We've seen accidents happen from weyrlings not being able to visualize their destinations clearly enough when they're awake, which is bad and needs a failsafe, but at least is understandable. Yet, apparently it's possible to transit yourself into hyperspace without a destination and the dragon will go. And neither dragon nor rider will recognize the problem and immediately correct it to somewhere that does exist.

Or maybe Holth had enough energy to start the process but not enough to emerge on the other side. Again, a failsafe would work there. Dragons are sentient beings - they can know whether or not they have the capacity to make a jump. They can refuse if they are tired. Which didn't help here, because Holth probably wanted to go and felt she could make it, but...grah.

There are just so many reasons, both Watsonian and Doylist, why this decision to kill a major character literally only a few pages from the end shouts its wrongness from the tops of the mountains.

The remainder of the chapter is the gestalt dragons connecting Leri and Orlith to make sure neither of them dies, (at least until the eggs hatch, Leri adds quietly), and K'lon having a giant amount of pain and shouting "What have I done?", as if he was somehow responsible for this situation. This sounds suspiciously like manpain, but I'm going to call it K'lon's empathy kicking into overdrive to take blame for something that he had nothing to do with.

Having killed Moreta, there is the Aftermath, one month later on (4.23.43). Here are the first lines:

> The occasion of a Hatching ought to be a joyous one, Master Capiam thought without a single buoyant fiber in his body as he watched the dragons glide to the knots of passengers awaiting conveyance to Fort Weyr.  
>  He had not attended to what Tirone had been saying to him. Then the Masterharper's parting phrase penetrated his gloomy reflections.  
>  "I will be singing my new ballad, composed in celebration of Moreta!"  
>  "Celebration?" Capiam roared. Desdra caught his arm and prevented him from being trampled on by Rogeth. "Celebration indeed? Has Tirone gone mad?"  
>  "Oh, Capiam!" Desdra's soft exclamation was unusually gentle for that caustic lady, newly made a Masterhealer. Capiam glanced quickly about to see why. Then he saw K'lon's grief-stricken face as the rider dismounted.  
>  "Leri and Orlith went before dawn," K'lon said, his voice breaking. "No one could - would have stopped them. But we had to watch, to be with them. That's all we could do!" K'lon's tear-filed eyes begged for solace.

There's something here where I want to shout at the author "This could have been prevented! You have yet to prove that these deaths have importance or meaning! And if it's supposed to be a great circle of life, new coming from old thing, get stuffed."

Desdra is able to put the most positive spin on the day that is possible.

> "They were so brave. So gallant! It was dreadful, knowing they would go. Dreadful knowing that one day we would wake up and they would be gone! Just like Moreta and Holth!"  
>  "They could have gone that day..." Capiam began, knowing that wasn't the thing to say, struggling to find something to ease K'lon's grief.  
>  "Orlith could not have gone till the eggs were hard," Desdra said. "Leri stayed with her. They had a purpose and now it is accomplished. Today must also be a glad day, for dragons will hatch. Surely that is a good day for going. A day that had begun in unmeasured grief will end in great joy. A new beginning for twenty-five - no, fifty - lives, for the young people who Impress today begin a new life!"  
>  Capiam stared in wonder at Desdra. He could never have expressed it so well. Desdra might not speak often but she chose the right words when she did talk.

Not according to the book I just read, Capiam. Desdra speaks a lot, and is also very good when she speaks. I've also just noticed this, but Desdra has also just completed her journey from caustic journeywoman to Master healer by becoming significantly more feminine and gentle over the course of the book. Capiam complained very early on in the book that her bedside manner needed to improve before she could get her mastery. So now we have Desdra as the font of empathy, perhaps because she's the only woman in the group, perhaps because of this softening of her characterization that had resulted in her promotion. Maybe it's unintentional, but then there's Moreta and Leri to contend with, who were both uppity women and mostly unapologetic about it, and are both now dead because of the narrative and its rules.

The engineers who designed and strengthened the psychic link apparently also forgot to include a safeguard of some sort that would allow the connection to unwind in case of death or be buffered in time of great emotions, so that the dragons, who are possibly longer-lived than the humans, could pair again or go live the remainder of their lives as wilder creatures, and so that the humans might not spiral into the deep depression that accompanies a dragon death. It's possible to pull someone back from that, as Lytol, Brekke, and Kylara demonstrate. The draconic gestalt is apparently also able to achieve this for the dragon side, so the question seems to be why they don't do it more often and instead seem content to let valuable assets and knowledge destroy themselves in their grief. Choice is important, but it seems like a decision of that nature is best made when lucid and able to think it through, assuming that the person affected can get close to lucid after this kind of tragedy. Capiam muses on this scenario for a line before dismissing it as "wistful futile thoughts", because "the halves that were missing could never be replaced." Which is true, but utterly precludes the possibility that there might be a way of continuing on anyway, with good community support, and possibly one of those head-Healers the planet desperately needs.

This whole premise is mightily fucked up.

_[And it gets worse, in that in the Todd books, Wind Blossom, who is now the engineer of the watch-whers, instead of the watch-whers being an accident that happened on the way to dragons, specifically has engineered them so their Impression bonds can be transferred from one person to another, and that on the death of a bonded watch-wher, people don't have the instinct to follow their partner into death. This, however, happens all after the First Pass books where Kitti Ping deliberately engineers the bond to be this kind of "until death parts one of us, and then only for a little while as the other tries to follow us into it." Things do not improve as the explanations continue to happen in later books. They really don't.]_

With regard to the Hatching Ground, though, there seems to be the full set of moods on display for the day. We now know we have Tirone to thank for the Ballad of Moreta, a song that will continue to be sung more than five hundred years in the future, because apparently there are things worth preserving, culturally, about a person who died from exhaustion after time traveling to several places to deliver a vaccine. Presumably, Tirone has taken liberties to make it sound more heroic. Capiam is trying to hold his emotions in check, lest everyone see the Masterhealer express his grief at the losses suffered. He's doing very poorly at it, by the way. K'lon, of course, is fully grieving, which is probably the healthiest reaction of the men assembled. Desdra is the person with perspective on it all, even though she's also grieving, so delivering the lines about turning a sad day into a happy one falls to her.

The Hatching starts, and Capiam observes those entering. Despite being near the end, there are hints of stories not told that probably deserve more than a paragraph.

> Desdra's hand tugged at his and he followed her gaze to see Alessan entering the Hatching Ground with Lady Nerilka. They were a striking pair, Alessan a half head taller than his consort, but, even at this distance, Capiam could see that Alessan was pale. He walked steadily, if slowly, his arm linked through Nerilka's. Tuero was on his right side, Dag and little Fergal a respectful pace, for once, behind their Lords Holder. Capiam had been surprised by Alessan's choice of wife, but Desdra said that Rill would support Alessan and he needed that.  
>  Master Tirone arrived, with Lord Tolocamp and his ridiculous little wife. Capiam wasn't sure if the emergence of Lord Tolocamp from his self-imposed isolation was a tribute to the occasion or would be a trial, but he had made the effort today. As Nerilka had noted to Capiam, the man had never known he had a daughter missing. When told that Nerilka had become Alessan's wife, Tolocamp had remarked about Ruatha swallowing up his women, and that if Nerilka preferred Ruathan hospitality to his, that was the end of her in his eyes.

Charming. And also, the blink-and-you'll miss it solution to the question of who Rill is at the beginning of chapter XV. Which should have been an easier thing to figure out (Ne-RILL-ka), but, of course, by the time we joined the action, everyone was three sheets to the wind. I think we're also supposed to recall that Nerilka has super disguise abilities from the earlier chapters where she became a drudge and slipped into the quarantine zone, and just accept that nobody could have known that it was her. And the reader is kept off the scent by another of those linguistic tricks that would require thinking of "Rill" as a nickname and possibly one of a syllable nature, instead of as just another character in a long cast of them.

Also, Alessan had a really whirlwind courtship with Nerilka if he's marrying her one month after the disaster. That would have been nice to see happen, to figure out how the grief process worked (or didn't) for him, and how the two of them bonded enough to get married.

A consequence of the marriage, however, is that Oklina is one of the candidates standing for Orlith's queen egg. Presumably, Alessan and Nerilka can produce themselves more heirs to keep the lines going now, instead of needing Oklina to have kids.

> Capiam thought Oklina looked stunning. He remembered her as so shy and diffident in the bustling, lusty family that had once cramped Ruatha Hold as to be unremarkable. She had certainly bloomed. Then he noticed B'lerion watching her intently. He, too, had changed dramatically since Moreta died.  
>  [...Capiam gets weepy, but the eggs crack and make happiness a part of the day...]  
>  Two of the girls wavered in their stance but in Capiam's mind there was never any question of which girl the little queen chose.  
>  Capiam turned to embrace Desdra in celebration. Clinging together, they watched Oklina lift shining eyes, her gaze instinctively finding B'lerion in the mass of faces confronting her.  
>  "Her name is Hannath!"

And that's it for this story, with the birth of a new queen to replace the two that died. Hardly seems fair at all.

Not to mention that this entire section that I'm commenting on took six pages in the electronic version I'm using. On actual paper, I'm sure it took more pages, but all of this, death, suicide, song, marriage, and birth, took a very small portion of the actual book and contained all the permanent action aside from the mass deaths from the plague. It seems to be a failure of pacing, really, to tack on that idea after most of the book was tense about her plague infection and to see if she would die from that.

Plus, there's one big hanging thread that had not been addressed - there's a future Moreta picking needlethorn that hasn't been caught up to yet. While the death during the errands may be a fixed point in time, there's nothing stated in the rules of time travel that says she has to go back immediately. A different dragonrider could potentially intercept Moreta in the future, collect Holth from the past somewhere, catch Leri and Orlith on the day K'lon observes them leave, and all of them could live out perfectly good lives past the disaster point, returning only at the last point to do the delivery so that the timeline is satisfied. Which assumes that Moreta has to do that death run at all. Moreta could leave detailed instructions of the Keroon Plains for another dragonrider to take her place and deliver the vaccines and explanations needed to make things work and just skip out on this point where she supposedly dies. It certainly seems like there are more than a few options for enterprising dragon riders like K'lon to try and see if the whole thing can be avoided or shunted away such that all the observed narrative happens, but the result is not the death of two queens and their riders. This is a big thing just left without explanation, and I doubt it will come back at all. 

Next up is Nerilka's Story, which will likely contain much of the things I wanted to know about Nerilka and Alessan inside.

(The Dragondex at the end offers symbols, colors, and Leaders, as well as oaths and terms of interest, now including length measurements of dragons, and including the sterility of greens based on their firestone use, as well as a timeline in years (should be Turns), that goes from Planetfall, to First Fall, and from thence on. Large amounts of spoiler data abounds here, as is the case with many of the versions available.)


End file.
